Life on the Line
by WiseWriter Cait
Summary: What happens when you put the characters of House of Anubis in a Hunger Games world? Read  as well as review  this story to find out! Fabina, Neddie, Jabian, Jara, Peddie, Pifie. Rated T for just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey! This is my brand new story and first crossover, Life on the Line. It's a crossover between House of Anubis and the Hunger Games. I don't own the Hunger Games, House of Anubis, or anything but the plot line and the OCs. So, enjoy! And don't forget to review afterwards!**

Chapter One – Nina

"Nina! Nina! Nina wake up!" my Aunt Sarah shakes me awake, and I groggily blink, then I yawn sleepily and stretch my arms. I just had the strangest dream. I was in a boarding school in… England? What was England? And then there was some Egyptian Mythology and a great mystery involved whatever the heck that was. There was also a… Sibuna? The details were hard to remember, as dreams always were. But there were friendly faces in it. I didn't know any of them besides my boyfriend, Eddie, and the some of the adults were officials in Panem.

"Nina, we have two hours before the Reaping. W-we need to prepare."

If there's anything my Aunt Sarah could say to get me fully awake, it was that. I didn't take any tesserae, but there's always a chance I'll be reaped and forced to be a tribute for District Twelve in the Hunger Games. I only have a small number of slips in the Reaping Ball… but I can't help but feel scared. Every child in the Districts is scared on this fateful day. Sarah quickly gets me out of bed, and I take a quick shower. Despite being one of the richest families in District Twelve, we don't have the best lifestyle, and that includes not having hot showers.

Sarah curls my hair and puts me into a pretty lavender dress, the best dress I own, and proceeds to doing my makeup. Makeup is only used for the Reaping day, when we're supposed to look our best. As if this is a big holiday or something. It's ridiculous, some things the Capital puts us through. But it's not as if I could speak up or anything. I'd just become an Avox, and then I wouldn't be able to speak at all.

"You look beautiful," my aunt says with a quivering, watery smile as we stare into the dusty, slightly cracked mirror at my reflection. I suppose I do. It's a shame that the one day I look like this is the Reaping day. I don't want to dress up for the Capital and their stupid Games, but it looks like I'll have to. I console myself, thinking that at least Eddie will like it. Suddenly my aunt looks over at the clock. "It's time for the Reaping," she says, and she both looks and sounds like she's about to cry. I hug her briefly, and then we head to the Reaping together.

We part as we enter the Town Square. I search for Eddie, and find him amongst the sixteen year olds, all of whom are in their own little group. The other age groups are clumped together too, as always, and I head over and run into his arms. "Hey," I whisper, unable to keep the fear out of my voice.

"Hey yourself," he whispers back, and think there's a hint of fear in his voice, too. "You look amazing, and beautiful," he adds.

I smile up at him. "Thanks. You look very handsome yourself." That's true. Eddie is in his nicest suit, like all the other richer boys in the District. I hope Eddie isn't chosen for the Boy Tribute for District Twelve. I couldn't bear the thought of him getting sent into that death trap. Suddenly, a little cough fills through the crowd, and Eddie and I look up to see the District Escort, Esther Robinson.

"Welcome, welcome," she says, as if she'd rather be in any other District than District Twelve. District Twelve is the lowest, most pathetic District in Panem from the Capital's point of view. Quite frankly, I rather live in District Twelve than the Capital. They may be richer than all of the District Twelve residents combined, but all of the District residents have way more brains, and we dress less weirdly. Today, Esther was sporting magenta colored skin, bright orange hair, and what looked like a dress made from aluminum cans.

Eddie and I look at each other with raised eyebrows, but Esther Robinson continues as if her attire is completely normal. "We will now choose one courageous boy and girl tribute from the Reaping Balls to participate in the 17th Hunger Games. May the odds ever be in your favor! Ladies first!"

_Not me, not me, please not me!_ A little voice inside my head screams. I can tell Eddie is thinking the same thing, I can feel his eyes on me, looking with concern and worry.

"Our lovely girl tribute will be…" Esther makes a great show of picking a small slip of paper from the Reaping Ball for the possible girl tributes and grandly yet slowly opening the folded piece of paper. All I can think of is my wish for her to hurry up and find out who the unlucky girl will be.

"Miss. Nina Martin!"

"No way!" Eddie shouts in anger. But I'm frozen, filled with fear, surprise and shock. I'm… the girl tribute for District Twelve? I have to face off twenty-three others in a duel to the death? I didn't take any tesserae! So many people had more slips then me. Yet it didn't matter. The odds weren't in my favor, to say the least.

I feel like I want to cry, yet I can't. I untangle myself from Eddie's hug and slowly, still numb with shock, walk up to the stage. Esther has me stand by the only District Twelve victor and my mentor, Racheline Valentine, who won the 5th Hunger Games. My mentor doesn't look at me, but I know she feels pity. So does everybody else in the District. Aunt Sarah's crying silently, and yet I still can't cry a single tear.

"Now, for our dashing young boy tribute," trills Esther, as if this is all normal, which I suppose it is for her. "We will have…"

I barely pay attention to Esther. All I'm wishing for is that at least Eddie won't follow me into the death trap. That he'll live and never be Reaped. That he'll find another girl and settle down and have another family while I watch him from the afterlife.

"Eddie Sweet!"

Well, looks like the odds weren't in either of our favors. I shed a single tear as Eddie, with a shocked look on his handsome features, and then prevent the other tears from falling. I can't show the other tributes I'm weak. I can't show how much my heart is breaking.

Because how am I going to fight my boyfriend, the one guy I love? How will we both make it back? Then I realize that's impossible. In the Hunger Games, twenty-three children die, and only one lives.

**A/N: And that's a wrap! I'm going to post the next chapter ASAP. But in the meantime, what do you think overall of the story? I'm sure you will all have questions. Where are the other members of the Anubis House? Will there be any Fabina? Well, you'll just have to tune in for the next chapter ;) Don't worry, it'll be worth it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's the next chapter for ****Life on the Line****. I'm thrilled that you all like my new story. The reviews and the story subscriptions are extremely rewarding for me, and make it worth it to write the next chapter, even if the review just a sentence (:**

**I don't own the Hunger Games or House of Anubis, just this storyline and the OCs.**

**Below is the next chapter, R&R please?**

Chapter Two - Nina

Immediately after the Reaping, Eddie and I are herded off like fluffy white sheep into separate rooms in the Justice Building. I've never been here, and the furniture is nice. On other occasions I might have been fascinated by everything, but I've just been named the girl tribute for District Twelve. There are bigger things to think about than how nice the furniture is. I begin to pace, and then start to bit my nails as I pace. What I should be thinking of is my strategy to get out of the Arena alive. But I can't. All I can think about is that Eddie, who I love, is going with me into the Arena and twenty-two other kids are coming with us. And only one is coming out. For a minute I stop pacing and stop by the wall that separates me and Eddie. We're in separate, adjacent rooms so our families and friends could say goodbye privately, but I wish I was in there with him now. I want to just be with him, knowing our time together will be short. I need his smile, which can light up the whole district, his sarcasm, which is as fresh as a cool breeze, and I just need… Eddie. There's no other way to describe it.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by incoming visitors, my friends, all of whom are crying and begin to hug me. I try to smile and tell them I'll be alright, that I'll come back, but we all know that I'll have to be facing the Careers from Districts 1, 2 and 4 who have spent their lives working for this moment. And even though there's the hope I may pick things up quickly, most kids like me end up coming home in a body bag. My best hope is to be a fast runner so I don't get caught up in a blood bath. The guards take all of my friends away, though, and Aunt Sarah comes in. Her expression catches me by surprise. With my friends in tears, I had expected Sarah to be the same, so that I could comfort her while we say our last goodbyes. But Sarah's face is dry, without a single tear on her cheek. One look at her eyes, though, and you can tell that she's grieving. Her grief is one that's beyond tears, and that's what hurts me most. But I'm glad she's being strong for me, at the same time, because with my friends, I was the strong one.

For the first couple of minutes, I just sob on her shoulder. I let all my fear, my grief and my anger, anger at the Capital and their stupid Games, come out through my tears. After those minutes, though, and pull away and wiped my eyes with my hands. "I needed to do that," I said quietly. Sarah hugs me, "I knew you did," she whispers softly, as if her heart is breaking. Then she pulls away and says, "We have little precious time. Remember, Nina, I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Also," she pauses as she rifles through her purse, "you are allowed two tokens at the most from home. Take these two, please." She takes a golden mockingjay pin and an odd locket from her purse and places them gently in my hand.

I look down at the two objects in both surprise and appreciation. The mockingjay pin was my mother's, and I had always wondered what Sarah had done with it. The mockingjay has an interesting story, the combination of a mockingbird and a jabberjay, who mated when the jabberjays were sent to die by the Capital. The mockingjay is a symbol of defiance of the Capital and strength, the power to overcome anything, even if it seems impossible. I smile and pin it to my dress, and then take a closer look at the locket. It's like an… eye of sorts, with a red gem in the middle. When I open it, there's a picture of me when I was nine years old, running around, happy and carefree. Suddenly, a memory of the dream hits me. Wasn't this locket in the dream? But wasn't there a different picture inside? I give a quizzical look at Sarah, who smiles at the locket and says. "It's an old family heirloom, that locket. I changed the picture at a minutes notice one you were reaped…"

Suddenly, Sarah looks at me, her face sharp and intelligent. Her eyes are still filled with grief, but her voice is firm when she begins to speak again. "I'm giving you this locket, Nina, as a reminder. You're going to go through many, many terrible things in your Hunger Games. But never forget who you were and where you come from. Never. They may make you into a killer, but you aren't a killer, Nina. You're only a killer because they made you into one. Tell me who you are, Nina."

I'm slightly taken aback, though I say uncertainly, "I'm Nina Martin, and I'm 16. I live with my Aunt Sarah in District Twelve, my parents died years ago. I love cupcakes, adventures, school, my friends, Sarah, running, and animals. I have a boyfriend, Eddie, who I love more than anything. I was just reaped and am now going to be a tribute in the 17th Hunger Games. I'm not sure how I'm going to win, especially since Eddie is in the Games too…" I can't go on, so instead I look over at Sarah, who nods at me.

"Never forget that, Nina. They may try to make you into one of their puppets, especially if you win the Hunger Games. But don't let them. You aren't a puppet of the Capital, Nina. You're Nina Martin. Promise me you'll remember that, Nina, promise!" Just as I'm about to open my mouth and say 'I promise' Peacekeepers enter the room and herd Sarah away. I look down at the mockingjay pin and the locket, which I have put around my neck. I stare into the picture of the little me, and I remember what Sarah asked me to promise her. I know I should make that promise, but, the thing is…

I'm not sure if that's one promise I can keep.

**A/N: And that's Chapter Two! It's one of the more boring chapters, but it's an important one, especially if there's a sequel. You'll find out who the other tributes will be in the next chapter. Who do you think they will be?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And I'm back with another chapter! I felt an odd burst of muse, thanks to all of your lovely reviews, which really gets my fingers typing. I don't own House of Anubis or the Hunger Games, just the storyline and the OCs. Now, onto Chapter Three! R&R, please?**

Once Sarah was taken away, three Peacekeepers came to take me to the train. They soon got into formation with their expressionless faces, two on each side of me and one behind. I got the message. There was no way to escape my fate. The only way to run was forward, into the train and into the conniving and despicable arms of the Capital and their president, Rufus Zeno.

At the train station there were reporters and cameramen from the Capital, and as soon as I arrived they swiveled around to face me. I do my best to look emotionless and look straight ahead, trying to put on a brave face and not let my fear show. Tributes who show fear are immediately are marked as prey. The Careers are the predators. Swiftly they kill off their prey, and then begin to hunt down each other. It's awful, the things the Capital forces the citizens of Panem to do.

Yet there is always a prize for the strongest predator, the last tribute standing. Fame, fortune, glory. A home in Victor's Village, the best neighborhood in all of the Districts. It's enough to make almost anybody, especially the Careers, want to put up a good fight and win the crown. It's the perfect way for Rufus Zeno to control us all like his personal puppets. A bitter taste enters my mouth. What I wouldn't give to have a private moment alone with Rufus Zeno and rip him apart limb by limb as he screams in agony… making him pay for everything he's done…

_Never forget who you are_, Aunt Sarah whispers in my head, and I feel my fists unclench. There's still hatred burning inside of me, but the flames have calmed down the teensiest bit, and I do my best to resume my impassive expression.

Then, Eddie arrives. Suddenly, my face breaks into a smile and I run over to him and I hug him, and he hugs me back. He smells like mint, firewood and strawberries. They're three scents that shouldn't blend together well, but somehow manage to smell amazing on Eddie. His arms were strong and firm, and for the first time ever since being reaped I felt safe in them. "Hey," I whisper, suddenly aware that oodles of cameras are watching our every move. "Hey yourself," Eddie whispers, and we pull away.

Racheline Valentine comes in and blocks the camera. "Come on," she says sharper, "let's go onto the train. We need to be at the Capital by night so you can get a good nights sleep for the Opening Ceremony tomorrow" She herds both us on the train, and I can't help but feeling a little bit relieved. It feels good not to have the cameras focused on me, while the Capital watched my every move through their televisions in their homes.

Once we're in the train, the three of us meet up with Esther Robinson, and Esther leads us happily over to our rooms. Just as Eddie and me are about to head into my room, Racheline puts a hand on each of our shoulders, stopping us. "We need to watch the other District's Reapings before we can rest in our rooms."

I don't want to see our competitors, the other tributes. The kids, all but one, who will die sometime during my Games. But Eddie nods, so I sigh and shrug nonchalantly and we follow Racheline into her room. She sits on her bed, so Eddie and me sit on the floor against the bed. I lean my head on his chest, Eddie puts an arm around my shoulder, and Racheline turns the television screen onto the recaps of the day's Reapings.

One by one we watch the recaps, starting at District One. The boy, Mick Campbell, a volunteer, looks determined and resolute. The girl, Amber Millington, however, wasn't a volunteer, and the way she looks over at the man who must be her father makes me wonder whether she ever wanted to be a tribute in the Hunger Games. She's pretty, and looks a little younger than she probably was.

From District Two is the boy tribute, Jerome Clarke, who has slightly elfish but handsome features and a mischievous smile, as well as a little sister he had to pry himself away from to step up on the stage, and the girl tribute, Dana Roberts, is a pretty brunette whose expression looks like she can melt a rock. It makes me feel a little queasy, her expression. If she wasn't a cold-blooded killer, I don't know what was.

District Three isn't a Career district, despite the fact that it has the title of the third district. The boy tribute, Alfie Lewis, smiles nervously at the camera but looks like he's going to pee in his pants any second. Nadia Valdez, the girl tribute, bursts into tears and I can't help but think _an easy kill_. Then I feel shame. I'm already turning into one of the Capital's puppets, and I've just gotten on the train.

Next is District Four. Every Hunger Games, a District must bring double the amount of tributes, which means District Four must give two boy tributes and two girl tributes to the Capital instead of the usual one and one. There's a bit of shock when identical twins, Patricia and Piper Williamson, are drawn from the Reaping Ball. Piper looks scared and innocent, but Patricia's expression is scary enough to make me know that if you hurt Piper, you'll regret it immediately. The boy tributes, Aiden and Theseus, are your average Careers.

Districts Five, Six and Seven pass by without any significance to me, but Eddie looks like he's paying attention to every single little detail. It's District Eight when I get another impression of a tribute. It's the girl tribute, Mara Jaffrey. She's extraordinary beautiful in that shy, bookish way, and she bits her lip nervously when the camera swivels around to get a glimpse of her face.

Again, Districts Nine and Ten fail to make an impression on me. Their tributes looked like they'd be the first ones to go, possibly in the bloodbath, when everybody fought over the goodies in the Cornucopia shortly after being released by the Capital into the Arena. However, District 11 grabs my attention. The girl tribute, Joy Mercer, looks small and delicate, but the way she sticks her jaw out and walks with her head up high to the podium instead of crying her eyes out makes me think that she'll definitely be a competitor to watch out for. Then the boy tribute, Fabian Rutter, is called. Hearing his name be called is the only time when Joy seems to have broken her composure. For a second, there's this look on her face that makes me think that Fabian and Joy must have been close, one way or another. Fabian has dark hair and eyes, but his pale skin greatly contrasts with the rest of his coloring. Genuine kindness seems to mark his features, and I can't help but feel the teensiest sorry for the horrors that'll wipe the kindness away in the Arena.

Now it's District Twelve. There's an emotion on my face that I can't describe when my name gets called, but luckily I don't happen to break down in tears like Nadia from District Three did. Eddie's called, and that's when I close my eyes and turn my head sideways. I still can't process the fact that in just a matter of a couple of weeks, all but one of those kids on the television screen are going to be dead.

"You can go now," Racheline's voice breaks into my thoughts. "I just wanted you two to have a peek at your competitors. I'll let the two of you have the rest of the train ride to yourselves."

Eddie and I get up onto our feet. I'm eager to leave the room, but decide to wait until Eddie starts moving. "Thanks, er… Miss. Valentine?" Eddie says, his thank you coming out more like a question.

"You can call me Rach," Racheline- no, Rach- says simply.

"Thanks… Rach," Eddie says, still sounding a little awkward. "Any word of advice once we undergo preparation for the Opening Ceremony?"

Rach pauses for a second before looking out the window, as if in deep thought. "Whatever you do, don't fight your prep team or your stylist. It may not seem like it sometimes, especially the prep team, but they're experienced professionals."

I hoped Rach was right. The Opening Ceremony is when the tributes make a first impression on the Capital. If everything goes well, you'll have donators to give you supplies from the outside during the Games. If everything goes wrong… well, you're on your own in the Arena. This time it's my turn to say, "thanks Rach." Then Eddie and me go off to spend the rest of our day together.

**A/N: So… you've met the tributes? What do you think so far? What do you think will happen next? I can't wait to see your reviews!**

**I've also decided to start something new. For those who do review the current chapter, they will get the next chapter dedicated to them. So, this chapter is dedicated to LiveLaughLoveReadForever, BelieveInDream, HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES, h2ohomeandanubis and KatieRox for reviewing Chapters 1 &2! You guys are awesome! Those who review this chapter, Chapter 3, will get Chapter 4 dedicated in their honor (:**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! I'm so glad you all like "Life on the Line" so far! It means a lot to me, your opinions. I don't own House of Anubis or the Hunger Games, just the OCs and the storyline. This chapter is from a new POV, Patricia, as she goes through her Prep for the Opening Ceremonies. I hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter Four – Patricia

I grit my teeth and barely manage to suppress a scream as the Prep Team rips off the last section of hair from my legs. They put a stick of sorts, made out of some type of firm foam substance. It's covered in saliva and bite marks as they wax my legs, and I grip onto the side of my chair to steady myself and make sure I don't go berserk. My Prep Team regards me with wide, fearful eyes as they quickly and silently do their duty. The four of them have worked the with girl tributes of District Four for quite a while, but apparently I must be the fiercest they've ever met.

I suppose, from one look at the mirrors covering the walls, that the look on my face could inspire fear in something as innocent and naïve as the members of my Prep Team. Anemone, Serafina, Mirabella and Romeo are as innocent and naïve as you can get. Their eyes are big, and, at first, were happy and perky. Just like everybody else in the bloody Capital. It's just entertainment to these people. They've never had to face any hardships, like me and Piper did back home. You can tell from their eyes. Eyes say a lot about a person.

My eyes look murderous, but they look tired and wary, as if I've been through a lot. And I have. My family, the Williamsons, was on of the poorest in District Four. My dad is just a mere fisherman, and my mother sold his catches in the market. Nobody is rich in the Districts. Even the richest part of District Four, or Districts One and Two, are nowhere near as rich as the Capital. Greedy, selfish jerks those Capital residents are. They use the money for themselves. I've been on the brink of starvation more times than I can count on my fingers, as well as never have enough to wear or enough of everything. But the residents of the Capital would have never had to suffer like I did.

My twin sister Piper sits next to me, naked, just like me. I'm not too uncomfortable by her nakedness. We share a bedroom next to my parents'. I've seen her naked while we were changing into a new pair of clothes. Plus, we both only have a couple of weeks to live. There are worse things than being naked with my twin in times like these. The Prep Team seems more willing to work on her, since she looks like the nicer twin. Only Serafina and Romeo have the bravery to try and make me pretty.

Everybody, however, seems eager to make Piper as beautiful as possible. Piper smiles at them and gives them compliments about their outfits. They're like putty in her hands. It was to be expected, though. Piper's the funnier, the nicer, the kinder twin. All I am is loud, scary, mean, and opinionated. Technically, the odds are more in the favor of someone who's tougher, like me. The Hunger Games aren't meant for nice girls like Piper.

Yet… she means everything to me. She's my best friend in the entire world. I couldn't imagine a day going by without Piper. When I realize that, I suddenly know what I'm going to do. A couple of minutes ago, I was still conflicted and unsure of what to do. But now I know what has to be done. I have to make sure Piper wins the Games, even if it costs me my life. People love Piper. There will always be a place for Piper in the world. But if I lose my best friend and my twin, I'm nothing.

"Wonderful job, team. I'll take it over from here," a friendly, clear voice interrupts my thoughts and I know the stylist is here. Reluctantly, I turn my head and expect to see one of the stylists you see on the television screen. The ones who have ridiculous makeup and colorful skin, with lots of plastic surgery that make them have weird features. I've seen them get interviewed millions of times before.

What I didn't expect to see was a totally hot, completely normal man. His hair was short and a dark brown color, and his eyes were a hazel-green color. His skin was completely natural, and the only makeup I saw was some green eye makeup that made we wonder whether his eyes were more green or brown. He was young, looking like he just graduated from styling college, and reminded of the older guys I used to have a crush on but never would get the nerve to talk to. I suddenly felt the urge to cover myself with a towel, and I knew Piper felt the same way. It was a twin thing.

"I'm Jason Winkler, the girl tribute stylist for District Four," he said in a voice that barely had a hint of the traditional Capital accent.

"Are you… new?" I couldn't help but blurt out. I had never seen this guy interviewed on television before. I was glad I could say something. For a second it felt like I had lost the ability to speak, and I felt grateful I hadn't.

"No, I'm not actually. I used to be the stylist for District Eleven, and then District Nine before I was promoted to District Four." It was then when everything made sense. Stylists normally weren't interviewed unless they were from the more favorable districts, like Districts One, Two and Four.

Jason continued. "Just give me a minute," he said smoothly. Then he began to proceed to take close inspection of Piper and me while we stood there, naked. If I wasn't blushing, I probably was now. Piper and my mom were the only two people who had ever seen me naked. To have a stranger, or anybody besides my sister and my mom, looking at my naked body, especially a man, was extremely embarrassing for me. Piper looked just as embarrassed as I felt.

Jason was quick, though, and his face was impassive. "OK. I think what I have will fit the two of you. Come on, your outfits await." He turned around and walked away. Putting on our bathrobes, Piper and I followed his lead.

A few hours later, Piper and me were dressed up into one of the most beautiful dresses I've ever worn. Everybody must dress up for the reaping, but Piper and I wear simple dresses, black for me, white for her. Nothing special. But this dress is different. It has natural looking red and white colored stripes, with sleeves that seem to be made up of long, thin strips of fabric, which are also striped. The skirt part has some more strips of fabric, but luckily it's sewn on top of an actual shirt. The waist and the chest are tighter than I like, but immediately I recognize what I'm supposed to look like. I'm supposed to resemble a lionfish.

A lionfish is one of the most tropical fish around. I've only seen it in the oceans of District Four, whenever my family had time to go. But the lionfish is recognizable everywhere. Everybody in the districts learns about the lionfish when it comes to science, I think. The part that sticks out the most is that the lionfish is beautiful, yet deadly. The lionfish is venomous, and Piper would always freak out if we went near one.

"I think…" Piper said.

"This is perfect!" I finish for her. We laugh and smile at each other. From the corner of my eye, I think I see a sad look appear on Jason's face. But as soon as it comes, it's gone.

"Well, let's go to the Opening Ceremonies now, shall we?" Jason said smoothly. I nodded, and Piper and me grabbed hands as we followed.

Let's get these Hunger Games started.

**A/N: Here's the new chapter! Sorry it took so long to write xD So what do you think about this chapter with Patricia's perspective instead of Nina's? I thought it would be cool, but I want to hear what you guys think. Also, this chapter is dedicated to LiveLaughLoveReadForever, BelieveInDream, HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES, Hey-Peps-Of-The-World, Trix19, cici1014, ShiningStar226, thepotterpony, Actress11 and Jpace14. I did not have enough time to personally reply to all of your lovely reviews, but I will soon as I write Chapter Five. Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here's Chapter Five. Hope you enjoy! It's Eddie's point of view this time around. I also don't own House of Anubis or the Hunger Games, just the storyline and the OCs. Thanks, and enjoy Chapter Five!**

Chapter Five – Eddie

My stylist, Frisco, must be the craziest man in the universe.

I mean, what self-respecting guy wears loose, baggy pants and a unitard?

With a disgruntled look, I observe my outfit for the millionth time. "What the hell is this?" I ask for the billionth time. There's little… holiday lights wrapped around me in some sort of pattern, but only in electric blue ones. They're turned off now, but I can only imagine the looks on my friends' faces back home when they see me in this ridiculous getup. Then I remember I will probably never see any of my friends from home again.

Frisco makes a face at me for the billionth time. "I _told_ you Eddie," he said in his ridiculously heavy Capital accent. "What may seem like a ridiculous getup to you will turn the other Capitalists into a frenzy. You'll have them dancing like bojingles! This is the type of outfit that will attract sponsors! What looks like holiday lights from afar are so wrapped tightly together that it will make you look like you are on fire! Like coal!"

This is Frisco's first year. Suddenly I see why they have given him District Twelve, the lamest District, to start off with. I wonder if this first job with me will get him fired. It's a mean thought, but I feel hideous in this costume. I can sit, because there aren't any holiday lights across my rear. But I look like an idiot.

The other tributes give me strange looks as they pass. I can't blame them. Not all of their outfits are amazing, but I probably could get the award for the most ridiculous costume ever. It's not just my clothes. I have a combination of black and electric blue eye makeup. There are electric blue and black streaks in my hair, which according to Frisco will light up in the dark. Luckily I have no lipstick on, and the prep team only doused me in a light coating of normal colored blush.

One of the District Four twin girl tributes, Patricia I think, actually stops and laughs at me. I give her a nasty glare before her twin, Piper, pulls her away to their carriage. Of course, they look OK. They, as well as the District Four male tributes, remind me of the dangerous lionfish. Of course. Deadly yet beautiful. They're going to be a showstopper at the Opening Ceremonies, of course.

When I see Nina walk through the door, though, my world stops. My bad mood is wiped away immediately.

She's beautiful.

More than beautiful, she's the most amazing, gorgeous, beautiful person I've ever seen. She's in a similar getup to me, a flowing black dress with holiday lights. But unlike me, Nina can wear the thing and be considered beautiful. Her holiday lights are realistic shades of red, orange and yellow and are twined together in a pattern so when Frisco and her stylist, Lena, turn on the lights, she actually will look like fire. Her long, wavy hair is hanging down loosely like always, yet there are some more mini beads woven in her hair. Immediately I know they'll be turned on when we enter the Opening Ceremony.

The best part of the whole thing is her face. There is barely any makeup on her face, just some to enhance her pretty features. There is some eye makeup and some blush and lipstick and gloss, but otherwise I could recognize her as Nina Martin, the sweet, sensitive girl from District Twelve I fell in love with years ago. I wonder if Lena, her stylist, did that on purpose, so the audience could recognize Nina in the arena.

She hurries over upon seeing me and gives me a peck on the lips. "Hey. You look great," she said. I can tell she's suppressing a smile, yet I can't find myself to argue.

"Me? I look like Bozo the Clown if he was into electric blue and black. You, on the other hand, are the most beautiful girl here. No contest." I push some of her hair behind her ears, and I can see the slight blush in her cheeks. She looks cuter than ever, and for a second I forget that we're about to be sent to our deaths in only several days.

Then I hear a sniff. Frisco looks like he's going to bawl at the sight of Nina and me all lovey dovey. Lena on the other hand just smiles and puts a firm hand on Frisco's shoulder. "Man up, Friz," she said teasingly. When she looks over at us, though, it may be my imagination, but it seems like there's a hint of sadness in her emerald green eyes.

"Now," Lena said, straightening her back and looking at Nina and me. "It's time to make your grand debut. This is your time to make a first impression on the Capital and win over sponsors. Big smiles, OK?" When we both nodded, she and Frisco hoisted us up into our carriage, black with black horses, and then Lena turned on the lights. Lena and Frisco clap at the sight of their handiwork. I look over at Nina, and again my breath's taken away. She looks even more beautiful with the lights turned on. The way Nina looks at me makes me wonder if I look good too, but I know I probably look ridiculous.

The chariots begin to jerk forward and one by one enter the Opening Ceremonies. The crowd is cheering loudly, and I know that the other tributes must look amazing. Then our chariot begins to slowly enter the Ceremony. I force a big smile on my face and so does Nina. Then, suddenly, Nina takes my hand and squeezes it nervously, like she always does when she's scared. Just when she's about to pull it away, I take her hand, because despite everything, I'm a little scared too.

Then we are paraded around the Capital. After a brief moment of shock, they start cheering loudly. I hear people screaming my name, Nina's name, which they know from the programs they bothered to peek in. Nina catches a couple of roses that's thrown in our direction. As for me, I still smile, but I'm in shock. Our outfits were really that good? One thing is for sure; I will never doubt Frisco again. Despite his flamboyant attitude and crazy, madmen ideas, he managed to make even District Twelve look beautiful.

Eventually the chariots end up side-by-side, in front of President Rufus Zeno. I never liked the guy, and this time is no expression. His eyes are cold, calculating and full of cruelty. An aura of power radiates from the guy as if he was born to be president of Panem. But there's something sinister about the guy, something that told me in the back of my mind that if I misbehaved or gotten in the way of Zeno's plans, he wouldn't hesitate to snuff me in a second.

Nina and I smile at each other, though, real smiles this time. We did it! We made a splash at the Opening Ceremonies. Looking around, I try to get a look at the other people's costumes, seeing whose costumes were the best.

Only a few stick out in my mind. District One, of course, looks amazing in long, flowing silver tunics with jewels embroidered into them. There's a belt of pure gold wrapped around their waists with a ruby in the center. Mick has nothing but light, basic makeup on him. Amber is the same, but her hair is let down loose, and there's a thin silver headband of sorts wrapped around her blond head. District Two is made to look like Olympians. District Three looks like robots, yet the most noticeable thing about District Three is the boy tribute, Alfie, who looks like he's considerably enjoying this costume.

District Four, is, of course, lionfish. District Eight, which produces textiles, has beautifully woven outfits that represent the products that are made in that district. The girl tribute, Mara, looks shyly beautiful with her hair put into a braid with threads of cashmere woven in. She and the boy from District Two, Jerome, are secretly looking at each other when they think nobody is watching. It's not too obvious, but I can tell because Nina and I used to secretly look at each other during class back in District Twelve.

Then there's District Eleven. Their outfits are actually pretty fantastic. Their stylists have designed them into Mockingjays, the national bird of the district. Mockingjays are a slap in the face for the Capital, because the Jabberjays survived against all the odds. They mated with the Mockingbirds and their children, the Mockingjays, continued their legacy. The Mockingjay is a symbol of endurance, bravery, and survival against all the odds. It actually looks pretty nice. The girl, Joy, looks pretty with her black dress and little black "wings" attached to her arms. What I do not like, however, is how the boy tribute, Fabian Rutter, keeps looking over at Nina with awe. She doesn't notice, but it's obvious that it was love at first sight for Fabian. Maybe it's the fact that I gave him a piercing look or that Nina and me are holding hands, but Fabian quickly looks away and doesn't look back once.

Rufus Zeno gives his usual annual spiel and then we're off. Rach, Esther, Frisco and Lena come over and turn our lights off, give us their congratulations for making such a splash at the Opening Ceremonies. I don't say much, but Nina smiles and says thank you for both of us. Then as the two of us our in the elevator, Nina says, "well that wasn't too bad," and plays with a lock of her hair, a bad habit of hers since preschool.

It's then when realization hits me. Ever since my name was drawn from the Reaping Ball, I've been conflicted of what to do. Should I save Nina or myself? But that little habit, playing with her hair, makes me realize that I can't win. Not without Nina. Because she means the world to me. I couldn't go back to the District Twelve knowing that Nina's dead. I couldn't look at anybody in the eye.

Nina's stronger than me, though. She can survive without me. She's pretty, too. She could have anybody she wanted. That guy from Eleven was living proof. So I've decided.

I will not make it back, Nina will. She will survive. And I will help her, protect her, make sure she survives the Games and that she doesn't lose her life at the cost of my own.

**A/N: So that's Chapter Five! Hope you like it. The next chapter will be in Nina's perspective on the first Training day. Again, I am sorry for not getting to personally reply to your reviews, and I promise I will restart replying personally to reviews with Chapter Five reviews. Life's been crazy, so I haven't had the time, but everything's cleared up now. This chapter is dedicated to xx Camille Elizabeth Storm xx, fashionista11990, GAKUENALICEROCKS, BelieveInDream, patromeluv, MusiceCompltesMeTKD, Hey-Peps-Of-The-World, Echo101, LiveLaughLoveReadForever, PeddieHOA, HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES. You guys rock for reviewing! Remember guys; a review is always appreciated, even if it's just a sentence! Now onto Chapter Six **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! It took me a while to write this one, as it's over 2000 words and I had to balance writing with school and other after school activities. This is the first training day. I don't own the Hunger Games or House of Anubis, just the storyline and the OCS. I hope you like it! Please read and review!**

Chapter Six – Nina

I woke up sleepily next to Eddie. At first I was in a tired, unaware bliss that one usually got when first waking up. For a minute, I forgot the events of the last couple of days. For a minute, it was almost like the beginning of a normal, ordinary day back home in District Twelve. But after that minute of bliss, the memories came rushing back, and I found myself curled in a fetal position. The reaping, Sarah's visit, the train ride, the Opening Ceremony prep, the actual Opening Ceremony itself, and the details of what happened afterward crashed down on me like a fifty-pound wave.

It was all too real. It was too much like what I saw on TV, except with one twist. I was that poor, unfortunate girl the Capital had decided to place in a fight to the death. I was a pawn in their Games. With Eddie sleeping soundly behind me, I'm finally alone for the first time in days. I've done my best to act strong, to act brave, to act normally. The only time I broke down was in front of Sarah, and I still hid some of my whirlwind of emotions to ease her grief. But now that there's nobody to act strong and brave for… I'm a mess.

Before I can sob silently into my pajamas, punch and rip up pillows, scream, or do anything to express my feelings about being in the Hunger Games, Eddie wakes up. He blinks, but reality seems to catch up to him quicker than it did to me. "Holy shit," he says, reflecting my feelings about the whole thing perfectly. "Nines, is today the first day of Training?" For a second, I'm caught by surprise, but recover quickly.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I bet today we're going to learn survival skills and make potential allies." Twisting a lock of hair around my index finger, I think that I'm probably right. Training Day is technically a set of five days in which you train in the arts of survival and show what you know in the Showcase to the Gamemakers. But it's more than just that, in some way. Training Day is when the strong rise and step away from the weak. It's when targets are chosen and allegiances, no matter how temporary, are forged.

Sure, allegiances can be formed within the Arena itself. But if you want to prove to any of the other tributes that you're an ally worth having, Training Days are the perfect opportunity to show everybody what you've got. I sleepily lean on Eddie's chest. "Any allies in mind so far?" I ask him. I know, obviously, that Eddie and I will be allies. There's no question about it. We trust each other with our lives, and I'd give up mine for Eddie's in a heartbeat. If there's one death in the Arena that I will never accept, it's Eddie's.

"Just you," Eddie said firmly. "Honestly, I can't trust anybody in the Arena but you not to stab me in the back while I'm sleeping. Especially when it comes to the meaner twin from District Four, Patricia, or that guy from Eleven, Fabian."

I raise my eyebrow. "Fabian looks too innocent if you ask me. But you could be right about Four, as well as the other Careers. The girl from Two looked like as if she was born to murder. The only two Career I'm wondering about is that District One girl, Amber, and the other twin from District Four, Piper. Piper doesn't look like your typical Career, and Amber looks like she rather be living the luxurious life of the Capital. Of course, District One is pretty fancy itself, but I guess it's nothing compared to the Capital."

"Piper will stick to Patricia like glue," Eddie pointed out. "And Amber will probably listen to Mick and bend to his will under peer pressure. As for Fabian… well, innocence can always be deception. You never know with the Hunger Games. I suppose I rather team up with Fabian than with Patricia from District Four. Anybody else stand out to you?"

"Joy Mercer from District Eleven," I say without batting an eye. "She seems to be stronger and tougher than she looks. Something tells me that there's more to her than what meets the eye. Then there's Alfie from District Three, but that's because he looks like a complete, utter goofball and also Mara Jaffrey from District Eight, but maybe that's because of her shy beauty. Anybody else that stood out to me were career tributes."

I don't mention Fabian, because for me he's the hardest tribute to figure out. He seems so kind and innocent, the guy who'd you'd last expect to kill anybody or win the Hunger Games. Yet I can't figure out if he's genuinely kind, or if it's all an act. Still, unlike the District Three girl, Nadia, he looks like he could survive the Bloodbath. Especially if he had Joy as his ally, which I'm sure will happen. They seem so close… they must be at least best friends or boyfriend and girlfriend, like Eddie and me are.

Esther, doing her duties as our escort, comes to get us. Upon seeing the two of us in bed together, an odd expression forms on her face, but even more quickly than it comes, it's gone. "Come on, you two. Today is an important day! First day of training. Come on now." Groggily Eddie and I get ready, separately, and follow her to the elevator. On our way we see Rach eating breakfast, and the three of us give a brisk nod before Eddie and I continue to follow Esther.

Esther drops us off at the Training Room. Eddie and me are one of the first people to arrive, being early, and the only other tributes there are from six, nine and ten. Everybody has sullen looks on their faces, as if they rather be anywhere but here. I lean my head against Eddie's chest and close my eyes briefly, hoping that this Training Day will start soon.

After what feels like only a few minutes, Eddie nudges me up gently. To my surprise, everybody is here now. Somebody coughs, and I look over to see the Head Gamemaker, Victor, walk down from his safe little balcony near the roof. The other Gamemakers are up there. I spot Daphne Andrews and Vera something at the railing, looking curiously down at us, wondering who will be the stars of this year's Hunger Games and who will be the extras. Feeling sickened by how the two of them are looking at us, I turn my gaze back to Victor and observe his face as he lectures us, taking note of his neat beard and mustache.

"Welcome, tributes, to the Training Room. Here is where you will prepare for your Hunger Games. You have five days to learn how to survive, so if I were you, I would focus on learning everything well instead of observing my facial hair." Victor's piercing gaze is on me, and a few of the tributes give me quick glances. I just shrug, though. Everybody's observing his beard, whether the Head Gamemaker likes it or not. "You are dismissed to train now," Victor says smoothly, then turns around and heads for the balcony.

Eddie and I look at each other, determining our strategy. In our silent communication, we figure out our plan of action. Eddie will tackle mostly the offensive stations, like fighting and weapons, and meanwhile will fit in some of the defensive stations, like camouflage and healing, in between. Meanwhile, I'll do the opposite. We spilt up, and I head for the camouflage station first while Eddie makes his way over to the target practice station.

I'm soon joined by Amber from District One as well as both Joy and Fabian from District Eleven. Amber's a whiz at camouflage, probably thanks to all her practice with makeup back home in District One, and soon heads on over to healing with Mara from District Eight. Joy's decent, and soon she moves onto the guns station, where she's ten times better. Fabian, however, is having difficulty with trying to transform himself into a tree. I'm doing OK with this assignment, and I could move on, but I like it here at the camouflage station. It's almost like art class back home in District Twelve.

"You're doing it wrong," I say to Fabian, trying not to laugh. "You're supposed to make it look as if you're tree has been around for hundreds of years. They're supposed to be chipped and worn down. Here, let me show you." Quickly, I manipulate the dyes on his left arm so that he's passable as an ancient oak. "Do it like that," I suggest. Fabian nods, smiling at me. Something stirs in my chest, but then I see Eddie in the corner of my eye laughing at a joke one of the trainer's has told him in the target practice station. The sight of his laugh kills whatever was stirring within me before. I look away from Fabian. "See ya," I say briskly. Then I head over to the edible plants station.

When I'm done with the edible plants station, I head onto the healing station, then the strategy station, the healing station and the knot tying station. When I'm done with those, I do my first offensive station, the guns station. Joy left as soon as I arrive, and for a second I just stare at her retreating backside, wondering what was up with her. Then Eddie arrives, takes my hand and squeezes it before letting go. I wish that he would never let go, but instead I pick up a dart gun and start shooting targets. "How's training going?" I ask casually as I try to hit a bull's eye.

Eddie whispers in reply, "Going well. Hit a good chunk of the offensive stations. I met some of the tributes, talked to them. I didn't really like Mick from District One or both of the guys from District Four, too cocky. The guy from District Two, Jerome, seems sneaky and calculating. I couldn't take Alfie from District Three seriously, and Dana Roberts from District Two scares me shitless. Don't tell anybody I said that, though. As for the District Four twins… well, Piper's OK. Patricia's annoying, though. She talks more than Delia Colt from back home, and she's as prickly as a hedgehog." That makes me laugh. As usual, Eddie can always make me smile when I'm feeling down. There was something about Fabian though… I mentally shake off that feeling. "So what about you?" Eddie asks me.

"Haven't socialized much. Amber's very good at camouflage, though, while Mara's good at healing, Joy's good with a dart gun and edible plants, as well as Fabian." Eddie already knows what district everybody is from, so I just mention names.

Eddie nods and says, "Well, anybody from District Eleven would manage to excel in the edible plants section. They're the agriculture district."

"True that," I say. "How much time left do we have anyway, in Training?" Eddie looks over at a nearby clock.

"Two minutes," he says.

"Good," I say with a nod. "This training is supposed to be good for us, and it has… but I could use a nap right now. All this knowledge is threatening to destroy my brain." Knowledge was good, but the weight of reality was weighing down on my shoulders, and it was scary to think that in just several days I would be in a fight to the death with twenty-four others. Everybody will have to kill if they wanted to survive, and even though it sounded horrible… I did want to make it out of the Arena alive and see Sarah and my friends again. But as I looked over at Eddie, a part of my will crumbled. District Twelve wouldn't be the same without Eddie. End of story. I blinked, and then heard Victor.

"The first training day is over! Put down your weapons and head over to the elevators!" he barked at us, as if he wanted some alone time to mull over possible contenders for these Hunger Games. Eddie waited for me, but first I looked over at the target, positioned the dart gun and squeezed the trigger. I watched that little dart zoom by.

Bulls-eye.

**A/N: And that's a wrap! So what did you all think? How well do you think these Games are shaping up? Who do you think will win? Who do you think will die first? Well, you can always guess in your reviews. Speaking of reviews, this chapter is dedicated to Jpace14, HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES, PINEAPPLE21, and GAKUENALICEROCKS. It was thanks to all your reviews that motivated me to continue writing this chapter. I would have finished it, but the chapter wouldn't have been as long or as quickly written without them. All reviews are greatly appreciated by me, even if it's brief, and I will do my best to personally reply to them now that I have more time. Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So… now that school has calmed down and all that jazz… I'm actually going back to writing Life on the Line. Yes, I know it's a long time. Feel free to surround me in a circle and beat me up with sticks. I deserve it. I haven't posted a new chapter since April *sigh* But anyway, here's the new chapter! Hopefully I'll be able to write more chapters… Oh, and by the way, I don't own anything except for the Ocs and the plotline. Once you're done, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd R&R!**

Chapter Seven – Jerome

Training Day Two finally arrived. How wonderful.

I wake up in my gorgeous, luxory suite to the bright sunshine and groan. I'm not looking forward to training, knowing that I'd kill anyone of those kids in a matter of days. I try to hide under my pillow and two layers of blankets, but then I think of Poppy's sweet, innocent smile. That's when I tell myself to suck it up and become a man. I've been trained my entire life just for these stupid, pain-in-the-ass Hunger Games so Poppy wouldn't have to. Once I win, we can dump my power-hungry, absolutely insane mother in the trash and head onto a beautiful house in Victor's Village. We'll never have to work in those stupid stone quarries, or become stupid Peacekeepers, and we'll live in happiness and ease for the rest of our lives.

If only it was possible. I'm only deluding myself with that fantasy, after all. Poppy will still have a chance to go into the Hunger Games, and will have to get a job somewhere if her name was never called from the Reaping Ball. I hope it never does. I'm the only Clarke that has to deal with the Hunger Games, and that's something I want to stay the same. Sure, Poppy's had to go through those boot camps. She knows how to kill. Our mother would have to be hit over the head seven times in order to allow only one of her kids to not train for the ever so glorious Hunger Games.

Rodger Vayne would laugh at my determination to win the Hunger Games. Or shake his head with that sad, vacant look in his eyes. Rodger's my mentor, but I've known him forever. The Vayne family live right next door, and before his Hunger Games, Rodger was my idol. He was the most talented guy at boot camp, he was dating Dana Roberts, the most talented girl at boot camp, and he was fiercely determined to win the Hunger Games and bring back honor and glory to his District and to his family. A few years younger than the big man on campus himself, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. But after his Hunger Games, Rodger let himself go to seed. He broke up with Dana, the only time I've ever seen the girl cry, and became this empty, vacant drunk lost in memories of the past. Whenever kids would say to their friends, "I'm going to win the Hunger Games just like Rodger!" he'd snap at them, saying that the Hunger Games weren't worth it.

I think I'm Rodger's only friend. One time, when I visited, Rodger told me I was the only tolerable guy to hang out with because I wasn't hell-bent on winning the Hunger Games. But I told him I was. And I _am _"hell-bent" on winning the Hunger Games. So then Mom won't take Poppy and make her into her trophy daughter. Because I've already been through so much thanks to that woman who called herself my mother, and I knew if I died in the 17th Hunger Games, Poppy's treatment would be ten times worse than mine ever was. When I told Rodger that with a dead serious expression on his face, he didn't say anything. But the look of respect on his face said enough.

Putting on my training outfit, I head down eagerly to breakfast. Despite everything, those Capitol chefs knew how to cook. Everyday was a neverending feast, and since I would never be able to eat like _that_ once I'm in the Arena, I fully intend to make the most of it. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Upon entering the dining room, I saw Dana stabbing her blueberry pancakes with her fork and Rodger awkwardly drinking his booze. It was more than obvious that there had been some problems in Dana-dise. Or Rodger-dise. For the sake of my friendship with Rodger, I didn't roll my eyes, even though I really, really wanted to. It was clear that Dana wasn't over Rodger. As for the devil himself… well, it was hard to tell what Rodger was thinking. Even me, Rodger's only friend at the moment, didn't know what the guy was thinking when it came to Dana. He just never mentioned her whenever I went over to his McMansion in Victor's Village, and I never really got the desire to ask.

Piling my plate with waffles, eggs, bacon, mini potatoes and a million of other mouth-watering delicacies the Capitol has provided for me today. Once I've stacked a years worth of food on my plate, I inhale it all in less than five minutes. Dana gives me a look of sheer disgust on her face, and I ignore her. Turning to Rodger, I say, "I'm going down to training. See you later." I know I'll probably be the first one there, but I don't care. After the first day, the introduction day, the tributes can go down to train on their own until a certain time. And if I'm going to win this thing, I need all the training I can get.

After a speedy trip down the elevator, I arrive at training. For a second I think it's just me and the Gamemakers, and I begin to smile. But that's when I see I'm far from being alone, and instead there's only a look of surprise on my face.

Mara Jaffrey, the girl from Eight, has a look of outmost concentration as she tries to make a fire in the fire-making station.

I've been able to make fires for years. You learn more than how to throw knives at Hunger Games boot camp. Her attempts are pitiful; she can't even form embers with the two sticks she's holding in her smooth tan hands. But still, the look of fierce determination in her eyes is admirable. Despite myself, I walk up behind her and say, "boo." Surprised, Mara turns around in the blink of an eye looking spooked until she sees it's me. Then she just rolls her eyes and turns back to what she doing before, desperately trying to create a fire she doesn't know how to make. "Stubborn one, aren't you?" I say. "Let me show you how it's done. You'll never be able to make a fire with just sticks the way you're doing it."

Mara doesn't even bother to give me a second glance. "Thanks but no thanks. I'm almost there, I think."

I sigh. Not only is her technique completely off, but also a fire in the Arena isn't even the wisest idea. "If you had any ounce of intelligence, you'd know that a fire would only lure other tributes to your location thanks to the smoke. Once the other tributes find you, they'd rip your head off in a heartbeat."

Mara looks over at me, a look of pure annoyance written all over her face. "What if I want to lure them there? Did you ever think of that? Plus, even if I hadn't thought of that, why are you even helping me anyway? You're the big bad wolf and I'm a fluffy, innocent-eyed sheep."

I shrug. "Why are you so upset that someone's helping you in the first place?"

For that, Mara has no snappy comeback to come up with. She merely places the sticks down gently and mutters, "I'm going to the healing station."

"I was planning on going there anyway. I need help with healing in the first place," I say, feeling stubborn.

"Fine," Mara mutters. Once we get the healing station, Mara works on one dummy and I work on the other. She's a whiz at it. Though she might have been truly awful at starting fires, Mara Jaffrey is a natural when it comes to healing. I'm not as good, though. While I excelled at most stuff at boot camp, healing was something I could never get. Just as I'm about to pound a dummy in frustration while trying to help a broken bone, Mara comes up beside me and easily wraps the dummy's broken leg in a few, short seconds.

"Thanks," I say, slightly confused as to why she's helping me. Not that I'm going to complain, though.

"No problem," Mara says, giving me a quick smile before looking away. I think my heart skips a beat, but the moment is so quick I barely notice. After a couple of seconds that seem to stretch across for a couple of millenniums, Mara speaks. "I'm sorry about snapping at you earlier," she says with a sigh. "I think the 'going-to-be-slaughtered-in-a-couple-of-days-thing' is getting to my head. I didn't really have a right to take it out on you." When she sees the look on my face, she says, defensively, "what?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. It's just… nobody ever really apologizes, where I'm from. Nobody but my younger sister, anyway."

"You mean Poppy? You're younger sister?" When I don't reply, Mara knows to take that as a yes. "I have a million of younger brothers and sisters of my own," she adds. "I'm the second Jaffrey kid to go into the Hunger Games." The last part is so quiet I almost don't hear it, but I do.

"The second?" I ask. I know I shouldn't, it isn't any of my business, but at the same time, I'm curious. Plus, the Capitol knows all about it. Mara will probably be asked about it during her interview.

The look on Mara's face is enough for me to open my lips and apologize. But for some reason I can't say a word. "My older brother, Berkeley, was in the Fifteenth Hunger Games," she says quietly, looking as if she's about to cry. "He got killed by the boy from Two shortly after the Bloodbath."

Awkward. Rodger won in the Fourteenth Hunger Games, so I know he couldn't have killed Berkeley. But he would have known the guy who did. Rodger was the most recent victor from Two, so I know Berkeley's killer isn't alive anymore. But at the moment, I realized how hard it must be for the families of the fallen Tributes. Especially if their child's killer is still alive and breathing. Being showered by fame and glory he or she didn't deserve. Suddenly, completely throwing sanity to the wind, I give Mara a hug. I shock even myself, but unexpectedly, Mara doesn't slap me across the face. She just cries silent tears as she leans her head on my chest. Maybe in an alternative universe, one that didn't have the Hunger Games, we could have been friends, perhaps one day more than friends. But with our death coming towards us in a mere amount of days, that isn't possible.

There isn't anybody around to see us except for the Trainers and the Gamemakers. The Gamemakers are too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice, but the Trainers can't take their eyes off us, no matter how hard they try. Is that guilt I see in their eyes? Before I can tell for sure, the other Tributes start arriving. The tributes from Twelve, Nina and Eddie, are holding hands. Mara pulls away and quickly dries her face clean of tears before we go back to learning how to heal, then afterwards I help her learn how to hold a weapon. Unofficially, we've formed an alliance.

Once, when she thinks I'm not looking, I catch her giving me a look of sadness, regret and a wonder of what things would have been like in that alternative universe.

**A/N: And it's done! What do you think? R&R please! Hopefully the next chapter will be up faster than the this one.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here's chapter eight of Life on the Line! The next chapter will be from Eddie's perspective, then the next chapter will be Nina's perspective, but for this chapter we will be taking a sneak peek into the mind of Alfie! It's been fun writing for Life On the Line and hope to keep updating it as fast as I can. I happen to not own House of Anubis or the Hunger Games, unfortunately, just the OCs for this story as well as the plot! Reviews are greatly appreciated for when you're done reading. Thank you!**

Chapter Eight – Alfie

I'm certainly not planning to win the Hunger Games, that's for sure. But then again, who really planned to win the Hunger Games? Nobody, when it came down to it, not even the Careers, ever planned to win the Hunger Games. Your main goal was to survive, your main mission was to survive, and by surviving you won the Hunger Games. I know I can't survive my Hunger Games, though. I'm that thin, weak little black boy from Three who had no skill in killing or fighting or surviving whatsoever. On the outside, I seem to treat life like a joy ride, cracking jokes and giving goofy smiles. But deep down, I'm absolutely terrified. Half of the time I want to cry, the other half I want to pee in my pants. My mentor, Steve Jacobs, is too drunk to give a rat's ass about whether I survive the Hunger Games or not.

Yet whether I have a sober mentor or not, I still have to go to the third Training Day. Training Days aren't fun, in my personal opinion. Everybody eyes me like I'm fresh meat, one of the first who will die in the Bloodbath. I guess I can't blame them. I don't have the accuracy needed to shoot an arrow or a bullet; I can't lift a sword without sweating, and I can't tie one of those fancy-pansy knots to save my life. My eyes look over at the knives station and I think of my fast, skinny legs. At least I'm OK with technology. But it's not like I'll find a computer at the Cornucopia or something. As I paint a smiley face on the dummy at the camouflage station, I sigh in defeat. Maybe I won't make it past the Bloodbath. It's a scary thought, actually. But everything here is scary.

The twins from District Four, Piper and Patricia, sit down across from me and take some buckets of dyes. Patricia instantly finds a dummy and begins to transform it into a patch of moss beside the river. She's failing miserably, but her twin Piper starts laughing and gives her a helping hand. Soon the dummy is passable. Meanwhile, I've made a brand new friend out of my dummy. As I finish finger-painting the face, two dots for eyes and a single curved line for a smile, I promptly decide to name him Jeremy. At least Jeremy looks happy in this place. Taking a bucket of purple dye, I give Jeremy absolutely gorgeous curly purple locks of hair. This is actually the most fun I've had in days. Once I'm done with Jeremy's hair, I decide that it would be better for everybody if Jeremy had some clothes. Taking the dark blue dye, I'm painting a nice blue tie on Jeremy when one of the twins, Patricia, looks over at me in disgust and asks, "What the heck is that?"

"First of all, that has a name. His name is Jeremy," I say with the most serious voice and facial expression I can muster. Piper starts giggling, surprisingly, but Patricia gives me the meanest sneer she can muster.

"Jeremy?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes! Don't look at him that way; you'll hurt the poor guy's feelings. But for the record, I think Jeremy likes both of you. Isn't that right, Jeremy?" It's my first attempt as a ventriloquist, but there's always a time and a place for everything. My voice is now all high-pitched and squeaky as I say, "_the pretty girl named Piper is totally cool! I'm afraid Patty over here is going to rip my head off, though!"_ Piper starts laughing again, really hard this time, but Patricia is glaring at me with a look that would make Rufus Zeno pee in his pants. She marches off fiercely, then begins throwing knives over at nearby station. Each knife manages to dig deep into the chest area, right where the heart is. Shit. I'm reminded that in a couple of days, this girl could kill me in a second, and it would be acceptable to the people of Panem.

Piper looks over nervously at her sister. "Ugh, I'm sorry about Patricia. If it helps, I thought you were funny," she says, giving me a smile. There are little whirlpools in my stomach now, but I don't mind. Piper and her sister are almost identical to the last freckle in terms of looks, but even so, I can tell a difference between the two of them. Patricia's face was more angular and sharp than Piper's face was. Piper's features were less harsh and sharp in comparison to Patricia's. Otherwise, though, they looked exactly the same. I smiled back at her, then looked down shyly and did a second coat on Jeremy's tie. Suddenly, Piper has the bucket of yellow dye in her hand and begins painting a shirt for Jeremy. I was a little startled, but didn't say anything. We stayed there, painting Jeremy until there was nothing left of Jeremy to paint. As I looked over at her, about to say something, Victor dismisses us and Piper zooms back over to her twin as fast as the speed of light.

Disappointed, I head on over to an elevator to take me to District Three's floor. Just as the elevator is about to close, Nadia slips in and stands beside me. We don't say much. We never have. Plus, allying with Nadia is a bad move. She's not good at anything besides singing and being a love guru, and that won't do much for you in the Arena. She's worse than me. From what I've heard, everybody is predicting Nadia to be the first to die. As I expect this ride to be mostly silent, Nadia speaks to me for the first time ever in my life. "I saw you with one of the District Four girls."

Her tone is dark and it catches me by surprise. Defensively, I ask, "yeah? So what?"

Nadia looks down at her feet. Her long dark hair covers her face, so I can't tell what she's thinking. "Don't bother trying to get too close, Alfie. She's probably going to be the one who slits your throat in the Arena."

Some unseen force seems to be strangling me, and I manage to say, "There are twenty-two other people who could be the ones to take my life."

"How can you be so sure that she wouldn't? Alfie, you barely know the girl! Why are you even trying to be friendly with other people even though you have only a few days to live?"

"If I just had a few days to live, I'd want to make them memorable and worthwhile. And I certainly consider making Jeremy with Piper something worthwhile!" I don't know why I'm so angry. To the logical mind, Nadia is right. But for some reason, I am.

Nadia opens her mouth, probably to give me an entire monologue about her opinion of me and how I'm handling the Hunger Games, but says instead, "whatever." The door then opens to District Three's floor and Nadia exits the elevator as silently as she entered. I still stand in the elevator, silent, because despite everything, Nadia has given me some food for thought.

We might all be friendly now, making alliances. But what happens when you throw twenty-four teenagers desperate for survival in the Arena?

**A/N: And that's a wrap for Chapter Eight! What do you think? Tell me in your much appreciated review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So as some of you might know, House of Anubis Season 3 premiered last night. I plan to write my feelings about the whole episode in my profile, as I will with the other episodes, but it gave me enough muse to start writing ****Life on the Line**** again. My life has been incredibly busy lately, what with school to contend with, but I will be writing ****Life on the Line**** again, or try my best to. And seriously, please feel free to beat me with sticks, because I have been a horrible author. Anyway, this is from Eddie's perspective! I don't own HOA or the Hunger Games, just the OCs and the storyline! R&R please! xoxo – Wisewriter Yarra**

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><p>Chapter Nine – Eddie<p>

Slowly, the puzzle pieces of the Seventeenth Hunger Games are falling together in their places. Training days are like catalysts, putting the pieces much quicker than if the tributes were left to do it themselves. And I for one am viewing this competition with clear eyes, seeing for what is.

Sorry for the poetic-ness, I think Nina's influence is finally hitting me hard with a stone hammer. She's beside me right now, sleeping soundly, wearing my shirt. Every night we don't bother the separate beds- soon enough Nina will have to have her own in Victor's village. Call me stubborn, but I am determined to make sure my girlfriend gets home. I can see in her eyes she's determined to see me get home instead of her, but that won't be happening. Not under my watch.

Usually we go down together, wanting to enjoy the time we have before I and twenty-three other children under the age of eighteen get slaughtered in the Arena. A pit of anger seems to have made a home inside of me, because it's like they're raising us like pigs. I've seen it before, back in District Twelve. The Fairfield family had animals, despite being no richer than anybody else in District Twelve. Mostly pigs and the occasional chicken, but I'd always remember those pigs. Not just because they were ugly and dirty, and the biggest dare of the year my friends would give is to steal a pig and return it without the Fairfields noticing. But, like with the Hunger Games, the Fairfield parents and their children would fatten the pig up. It would live a happy life eating scraps, and then when it was fat enough Papa Fairfield would come out with his knife and kill the pigs quickly before preparing and selling them in the Hob, District Twelve's black market. The Peacekeepers wouldn't care as long as they got a slice. My father would buy some. The pigs were good, but I'd always feel guilty as I ate them.

Before Esther Robinson called my name, I had always wondered what it would be like to live such a good life before being suddenly slaughtered out of the blue.

I needed to clear my head, scope out more info about the tributes. I hoped to be able to read what the tributes were like, their strategies and who they were as people. For the most part, I had been able to so far. My mom always said I was an intuitive person, with the ability to "read" people. Honestly, though, she's the only person who has actually said it. I'm not sure if I believe her, but if watching the tributes and knowing their moves would help me get Nina one step closer, or perhaps more, to victory and to home... I'd do anything to get Nina out of the arena alive, whatever it takes really.

I get out of the bed gently, so I won't wake Nina. Although our main game plan was to stick together and spend us much time as possible before I'm (though Nina's mind, her) killed, after all of the events I just needed a little bit of time to myself. She sleeps really cutely, inhaling through her nose and exhaling with this sweet sigh of hers. I know it sounds creepy, but even so I can't help but smile a little as I look at her when I get ready. After a couple of minutes, I exit the room silently, being careful to not wake her up. Rach isn't up yet, so I eat a big breakfast in silence before heading on down to the training center.

It's early in the morning, so at first I think it's just me. Because it's all very quiet, I can't help but remember my older brother Sean, who would take me out hunting in the woods at the crack of dawn. Nobody, not even Nina, knew that we snuck into the woods. It was our secret, and my own secret is that the first time Sean took me out to the woods I was about ready to pee in my pants. You could say I was a rebel in school- that's not really new. I always had a talent for pulling pranks and making people laugh. But Sean was a whole different type of rebel. When he was thirteen he crossed the broken electrical fence and went in every day ever sense. He learned pretty much everything there was to archery, making bows and stuff, surviving in the woods. Then, once I turned thirteen five years later he took me under his wing. Alone out there in the forests outside of District Twelve, hunting and shooting targets, our tongues ripping up the Capitol's cruel ways and everything in between was the freest I had ever felt.

One day, I had planned to take Nina out to the forest and show her what it felt like to be free. I had planned a picnic, a small one with bread and butter, some sandwiches and wild berries. It wasn't like the Capitol, where delicious foods like chocolate cake and seasoned pork roast was on the daily menu. Yet, I knew she'd love it. Afterwards, I'd show her around and my heart would fly when she'd smile. Perhaps, since we would be all alone, we could even dance together just for fun. Dancing was our favorite thing to do together, yet we had only done it once before today. But, in the end, the picnic didn't happen. The Reaping beat me to it, taking us away and throwing us into the Hunger Games.

It turns out, though, that I'm not alone. For a full minute I don't notice her until she says to my right, "are you stalking me, Weasel?" What with all the good luck I've been having, it's Patricia Williamson who decided to train early in the morning. That was sarcastic, of course. Honestly, I'm not really in the mood to face the wrath of one of the most vicious girls I've ever met. However, we're here and I grit my teeth because I really want to master the art of making a fishhook.

"Only in your dreams, Yacker." The nickname was made up randomly, but I think it suits her, as if she was born to be a Yacker instead of a Patricia. Willing to leave it at that, I go back to carefully crafting the thing, which looks just as much of a fish hook as nightlock looks like a safe plant to eat. I'm just about to give up when Yacker speaks again.

"That is by far the most pathetic looking fish hook I have ever seen."

Giving her my own personal Evil Eye, I can't help but say defiantly, "suppose you can do better then, Yacker?" She's right, and I do feel a sense of shame about the crappy-looking piece of metal, but I'm not going to give in without a fight. Stubborn, Nina would have said with a smile.

"Hell yes I can. I'm from District Four, remember, Weasel? My dad is a fisherman. I was born making fish hooks." Unfortunately, she's probably right.

"Fine, then, fish-hook-making lady. I guess you make the most beautiful fish hooks in the world? Well, I'm going to learn even if it kills me. You never know what's going in that Arena." Defiantly sticking out my chin a little bit, I go back to carving the fishing hook with my knife. From the corner of my eye, I can see Yacker looking at me hard, and how her pale pink lips open again to probably say something nasty about my fishhook making skills.

Instead, she surprises me. "Here. I'll make a deal with you, OK? I will teach you how to make a decent fish hook, and you're going to teach me how to shoot an arrow." Now it's my turn to give her a hard, penetrating glaze. I've never taught anybody to shoot an arrow, not even Nina. Archery was always something special between my brother and me. I can remember the first time he ever let me into the forest. I had picked up the beautiful wooden bow that my brother had carved himself with an awe look in my eyes. When my brother told me he was going to teach me how to shoot, I had asked if he ever taught anybody. He's reply, simply, _"I'll only teach you, little brother."_ I remembered feeling really special at the time.

"Give me one good reason why I should teach you how to shoot an arrow, when you can shoot me or Nina in the back once we're dropped off in the Arena?" I'm not going to give in that quickly. The thought of my death is a looming, depressing thought. It needs to matter, that my sacrifice won't be in vain and it will get Nina home. I don't want it to happen because of one little mistake.

"I-" Yacker is stuck for once. "My sister… You never know in the Arena…" She looks like she's going to say more but the look on my face stops her. I don't need any clarification. I know that she's talking about Piper. Yacker- no, Patricia is determined as hell to get her twin sister home. Patricia will do everything in the entire world to save her sister from a death in the Arena, even if it means doing things she would have never thought she would ever do. Including to let somebody else take her life. In a way, I see myself. Not just the stubborn determination, but the fact that we're both desperate to bring somebody home.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." No matter how sweet or wonderful Piper is, I made a promise to Nina and myself that I'd get the blond home. If there's one thing that will always stay about the same about Eddie Miller, it's that I keep a promise no matter what. Patricia nods, almost as if she expected it but was hoping that I'd do the opposite of what we'd all know I'd do. Silently she gently places the fishhook down on the table and walks away to the archery station, hips swaying, her shoulders hanging down in disappointment. She picks up a bow made clearly in the Capitol, nothing like the beautiful wooden bows my brother made at home, and begins to shoot some arrows. She's worse at archery than I am at making fishhooks.

I turn away back to my fishhook, but I can't concentrate properly. For some reason I feel a little guilty about the whole thing, even though I knew if the roles were reversed Patricia would have called me a string of creative insults. Maybe it's because I can completely understand where Yacker is coming from. Giving up on my lame excuse for a fishhook, I start walking towards the hand-to-hand combat station. I was thinking that I'd work on my wrestling skills, you could never have enough practice really, but I can't help but sneak a peak over at Patricia.

Yacker's concentrating hard, trying everything she's got to make a bulls-eye. Some glint in her eyes, or maybe the way her she's looking at the target with an utterly determined look on her voice, is striking. For a moment, I can't help but think that in her own way, Patricia's beautiful. Then I remember Nina. Nina in the crazy outfit our stylists' thought up, a beautiful flame. Nina, the cute, sweet little girl I fell in love with on the playground years ago. Nina, the way she smiled at me, at everyone. Still, though, it's not like me and Patricia are going to make-out in front of the Gamemakers. And alliances are allowed to be forged in the Hunger Games, it's normal. It's normal, right? Of course it is. Packing my worries behind, I walk up to Patricia from behind. "Your grip is all wrong." A look of surprise and something else- gratitude, perhaps- paints Patricia's face for a second, but she gets over it soon enough and I begin to teach her what my brother taught me all these years ago.

Patricia's a slow learner, a really, really slow learner, but soon enough she's getting the hang of it. It starts off friendly, though Yacker is never one to shy away from her signature insults. But at first, her stance is so awful I have to do something. "That is the most ridiculous stand I've ever seen," a look of annoyance on my face. Not sure how else to do it, I walk up behind her and use my hands to position her stance correctly. Carefully, I take her hand and show her how to properly aim and release an arrow. "Pay close attention," I tell her carefully, getting a small nod from Patricia and a sense of déjà vu from a Saturday morning two years ago. "Feel how I'm making your hand pull back and release. Record it to muscle memory or something. And make sure to aim your arrow a little bit above the target, because the arrows have a tendency to land a little below where you aim." And together, we manage to shoot a bulls-eye. "Excellent progress, young apprentice," I say with a teasing smile. It's what my brother first told me, and Patricia laughs a little instead of saying something rude. That's when we both realize how close we are. Like, really close, almost touching. I don't want to be obnoxious, my mother would probably slap me in spirit if I was, so cautiously I back away and cover it with a slightly… embarrassed maybe... "Your turn to shoot on your own Yacker. No help from the master this time." My humor's gone though, and I'm glad we're just alone.

Patricia, who for a nanosecond looks disappointed perhaps, nods quickly and goes back to shooting her arrows, but I can't help but erase that moment from my mind. For the first time ever since I had been in the forests outside of Twelve, I had felt free, as if I had suddenly grown wings and was able to fly away from everything, if that makes any sense. I'm not sure. One thing's for sure, though. I am by far more confused by coming to the training center than if I had stayed behind in my room and waited for Nina.

It doesn't really help that when Patricia asks, softly so nobody else but me can really hear her, if I've ever taught someone archery before, I shake my head and say, "No. Only you."

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><p><strong>AN: Was the ****Life on the Line**** return chapter everything you hoped for? As I am just returning (hopefully) for good and doing my best to consistently update ****Life on the Line****, I am going to start up the chapter dedications with the next chapter. If you want to review, which would be much appreciated, I do have one question I am curious to see you answer in a review. Who would you want to win the Hunger Games for ****Life on the Line****? Just something I was curious to see what you would guys say. See you next chapter, which will be the last training day from Nina's perspective! xoxo.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: For those who are wondering, I did indeed change my name from Wisewriter Yarra to Wisewriter Cait. Still the same person, but a new year came with a new penname! Anyway, I'm glad I got this chapter written so quickly. Yay for muse! Hopefully this will be able to keep up. I think so, now that House of Anubis is officially back and the third season is running! My review of the first episode is up on my profile if you want to see my thoughts. Anyway, this chapter is about the last Training Day from Nina's perspective. I don't own HOA or the Hunger Games, just the OCs and the storyline! R&R please? xoxo.**

Chapter Ten – Nina

Today is the final Training Day. I'm not sure whether to feel sadness or relief. Yesterday's was relatively normal, Eddie went down earlier than I did, and after breakfast I went downstairs. He was talking to the District Four girl, Patricia. They were just talking, and Eddie waved and smiled at me. I think he was about to come over and do some of the stations with me like we did for the past Training Days, but I signaled I had wanted to be alone to my own thoughts. It didn't really help though that Eddie and Patricia still talked together until Piper comes over and drags Patricia to the camouflage station, where she was hanging out with the District Three guy, Alfie. It's my fault, I guess, for signaling I wanted to be alone, but even so I can't help but feel a little bit of jealousy.

Today, though, I wake up groggily with Eddie's arms around me. I can feel his warmth, his legs pressed against mine. I lean back ever so gently on his chest a little bit, not wanting to get up and stay in Eddie's arms forever, as cliché was that sounds. But if I want to learn how to keep Eddie alive in the Arena, I need to go to the Training Center. I don't want any real distractions, this is my last day and I want to learn. Gently making my way out of Eddie's arms, I feel a pang of loneliness as I write Eddie a note and make my way down to eat breakfast. The food is delicious, better than anything I've ever eaten back home, but I barely taste it as I shove it down my throat. Making my way to the elevator, I still can't help but feel empty, as well as cold without Eddie beside me.

Surprisingly, I am not the only person who decided to arrive at the training center early today. Both of the District 11 tributes, Joy and Fabian, are at the wrestling station. As I make my way to the edible plants section, something I have yet to master, I watch the two of them out of the corner of my eye.

They look like they're having fun, as if they have no cares in the world. They're acting as if the Gamemakers and I aren't watching them and they're wrestling under any ordinary day back home. They're joking around, laughing, and I hear Joy giggle as she pins Fabian down. "I win, Fabes!" Fabian, smiling and laughing, pretends to attempt to fight back but to no avail. Then, when Joy's about to get up and go to another station is when Fabian makes his move, pining her down and saying with a grin, "I don't think so!" It was times like these where I couldn't help but wish I had brought Eddie down with me. As I pick up a handful of dark, blue-black berries, I barely notice the two of them walking over until they sit down beside me.

"You wouldn't want to eat that, Twelve." Joy is looking at me from the far right. "Those are nightlock, see?" She reaches over, her side touching Fabian's as she grabs one of the berries from my hand and crushes it in between her delicate-looking fingers. Fingers that could handle a gun with ease, I remember. The bright red juice, though unnoticeable until Joy crushes it, oozes onto her fingers. Dropping the crushed berry into the trash, Joy cleans her hand in the water bowl provided for us. "They may look like blueberries, but someone told me once that with one bite you'll be killed instantly. You have to look closely." She takes another berry in the palm of her hand and shows me the top opening, where there is the barest, hardly noticeable flash of red. "Blueberries won't have those."

Joy looks at me intently, and I make note to keep an eye out for nightlock in the Arena. I'm still not sure why tough-as-nails Joy would want to help me at all, though. "Um, thanks," I say with a hesitant smile.

"No problem." Joy carefully handles what looks like a raspberry in her hand. "So, Nina. Me and Fabes over here were practicing what questions they were going to ask us during our interviews."

"Oh," I say. How could I forget the Interviews? It always happened the eve before the Hunger Games begun, and it must be awful for the tributes. The boys and girls are dressed up in suits and dresses, and are expected to be wonderful and happy as their impending death looms over their heads and Caesar Flickerman, as nice as he is, tries to pick out all the details of your personal life for sponsors. I wondered what Caesar would ask _me_ I wondered, and a second later, I had my answer: Eddie. It had been pretty clear from the start that there was something more between the two of us, and even if the world hadn't seen our true relationship on camera, that would just make them more desperate to have Caesar find out the truth. Oh god. I'm not really sure, actually take that back- I'm as sure as hell that I don't want the Capitol to know about my dating life. But for sponsors, I'll have to be ready. Perhaps I should talk to Eddie about this as soon as possible, so we're both prepared.

"So, Twelve, what question do you think-" Fabian interrupts Joy suddenly.

"Joy, do you really think-" And this time around, Joy interrupts Fabian.

"Of course I do! Look, Fabes, I'm just trying to get us all prepared for the upcoming Interviews. I've heard that Caesar is a nice guy, but he has a crowd of nosy Capitolites to please! His income probably relies on getting out as much personal, embarrassing things as he can through the Interview. If you want Nina and us to be ready, we might as well start now!" There's a certain fire in Joy's eyes, and in a way she is right. People are nosy in general, that's why the District gossip girl makes you pay a certain sum of money before telling you a secret, and will pay even higher for her to keep one. Still though, it's odd, because why has Joy taken a sudden interest in me? It wasn't like I was ever her favorite tribute, that title would go to Fabian.

"That's what she has her prep team for," Fabian points out as I sit there beside them as they argue, confused.

And at this, Joy rolls her eyes, "yeah, sure. If her mentor is sober." She drops the raspberry in her hand back where she found it and leaves, going to the knots station. Joy doesn't look back once, and for a while Fabian and me learn about the plants in an awkward sort of silence.

"Erm- I'm sorry," Fabian says with a tentative smile after a few minutes. "I don't really know why Joy's acting so funny…"

But I do. It seems obvious that by the way Joy looks at Fabian that even if he doesn't feel anything other than friendship for Joy, Joy always felt something more for the guy. I wonder if Fabian knows this, but I don't think he does. The way he acted around Joy… it wasn't the type of awkwardness that came when you rejected the girl that was once your best friend.

"It's ok," I say with a small smile. "So what's this berry?" I hand over a sweet smelling, long dark-red berry to Fabian.

"Barberry," he says immediately with a smile, "my mom would always make the best barberry jam back home. Here, take a bite, it's really good."

Popping one into my mouth, my teeth crush the berry and as its juices run down my throat, I smile. "It's different, but I like it. Here, I don't want to be a berry hog." I place some berries in his hand and my fingers linger perhaps a little longer than they should have been.

Until everybody else comes, Fabian and me laugh at jokes as we learn about the possible plants we might have to face in the Arena. Fabian does more of the joking; he seems determined to start a conversation somehow. But eventually he manages to catch my attention when he quietly says, what is meant to be a joke but turns out more darker, "I feel even more caged in here than I do back home in District Eleven." His cheeks turn a deep shade of cherry red as he focuses a bit too much on gingerly examining blueberries and those poisonous nightlock ones.

I look over at the Gamemakers, looking to see if any of them are bothering to listen to at us. A quick examination shows that they aren't, they're all too distracted by the trays that contain the mountain of desserts several Avoxes have presented them. Subconsciously, I put my hand on my lips, wondering what it would be like to not speak at all, not by your own choice but by the decision of others.

I place my hand in bucket of a round purple berry whose name I have yet to discuss. With the Gamemakers distracted, our Trainer takes the risk of leaving our station briefly in order to talk to his friend in the hammock making station. Even so, I whisper while I talk to Fabian. "What's your home like?" A curious smile is on my face, because truth be told I don't know much about District Eleven except for the fact that it's the agriculture district.

A quick glance around for Fabian, and then there's a smile on his face as he whispers a response to my question. "Well, think of a lot of really strict Peacekeepers. I guess it isn't all bad. It's actually quite pretty- especially the apple trees and the mockingjays as they sing behind their cloak of branches." I can't help but smile a little bit as I picture Fabian's imagery, the mockingjays singing behind the choice of his words: a cloak of branches.

"It sounds beautiful," I say, looking into his eyes and he returns my smile.

"So what's District Twelve like?" It's an innocent question, of course. Fabian doesn't really know the not so innocent answer that comes after, though. I think of immense poverty, never enough to eat. My father getting avoxed because he had the nerve to defy the old Head Peacekeeper when he threatened our shop, a couple of months before I was born. My mother, getting blasted to bits in the coal mine, forced to work their so she, Aunt Sarah and me would have enough money to have a roof over our head and food in our bellies.

I remember the playground, though, where Eddie and me first met, the way he got me to laugh even when it was the day of my father's birthday and it was one of those days you weren't really supposed to laugh on. I remember the little secret box that Eddie and I kept well hidden in his house. I remember the kindness of the people in the Hob, Darius and Greasy Sae in particular, and how Aunt Sarah stayed strong for both of us despite the fact life had taken so much from her and how little it had given in return. I want to tell Fabian all the good things about District Twelve, to mask the bad, if only to keep that pure innocence and kindness on his face. I don't want to be the girl to wipe it all away for him.

"There's a playground, near the little neighborhood of shopkeepers, where I lived…" I begin to tell him. I can't really see my own reflection, but I have the notion that there's a little sad, wistful smile on my face that matches how I feel quite perfectly. That is when one of the District One tribute, the girl Amber Millington, plops down on to my left.

"Hullo!" she says, perkier than those little Yorkie puppies that you see stuffed in the Capitolite's flashy purses. "Can somebody tell me what this is?" she asks, lifting a nightlock berry to her face and crushing it in her palm. "Ohh! I could use this color as a nail polish, like you see those absolutely dashing Capitolites wear! I can just see it. What do you think of the name _Red Envy_?" Something about Amber reminds me of the little girls who would oh and ah over butterflies during lunch break, when the teachers would set us free for twenty minutes into the courtyard.

Turning my focus away from Fabian, I say, "don't touch that Amber, it's nightlock berries! Put the berry to your lips and it will _kill you_." An alarmed Amber drops the berries, looking a bit shocked, all thought of Red Envy gone. "Here, I'm sorry. Just don't scare me like that, ok?"

And with that, I give her a quick smile and go back to learning berries. Though I don't look directly at Fabian, I can feel his eyes on me as I work.

**A/N: And that's a wrap! So what do you think? I will appreciate and try to reply to your reviews, though it'll be easier if you don't do a Guest review so I can PM you. Still, though, any and all reviews, even if they're only a sentence, will be greatly appreciated! Next chapter will be the Showcase. Can't wait to see what Nina will do? Guess you'll have to see. Now, I am restarting chapter dedications based on who reviews. This chapter is dedicated to HOApercjacksonHUNGERGAMES. Thanks you for the lovely review **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: And now here's what you've all been waiting for: the showcase! I will post up my review of episode #2 of HOA later, so keep an eye out for that. Anywayyy, R&R please! I don't own either HOA or the Hunger Games xoxo.**

Chapter Eleven – Nina

I wake up with a jolt. Today's an important day- it's the Showcase. The peacefulness of the Training Days are long gone, to be replaced by a day that will forever change to course of your story in the Games. The Showcase is just that powerful of a thing. While the stronger tributes have unofficially been divided from the weak in the eyes of the Gamekeepers, the people outside of the Training Center have no clue what's going on. They haven't seen our faces ever since the Opening Parade, and they are quite antsy for a show. One morning I went on my laptop, and on CapitolNet, the Internet service the Capitolites use, and in the forums there are fierce debates going on.

Not just debates, too, but people are also "shipping" tributes together. Meaning they match us up, the word comes from relationships, strangely enough. Anyway, because I held Eddie's hand during the Parade, the Capitolites have been in a frenzy. A lot of the time there's pictures, but sometimes there are stories that they call "fanfiction". A lot of them, well all of them really, are full of things Eddie or I would never, never ever even think or say in real life, but some of them got really disturbing. I began to read one story, where it started getting really… sexual. I had quickly closed my laptop, my cheeks burning. I knew Capitolites were crazy, but that was another different level of insanity.

Hopefully the scores provided by the Showcase would distract the writers. The scores really impacted your Games. The highest scoring tributes would receive the most support from rich Capitolite sponsors, yet they were most at risk for death in the Arena because the other tributes would want to get rid of them quickly, seeing them as the biggest threat. The Careers usually have the highest scores, usually, which is to be expected. I'm just hoping to receive an eight. It's not a high enough score to make you a target for the other tributes, yet it's high enough to make a potential sponsor stop and think. I was willing to get a seven or a nine too, but the ideal score by far was an eight.

I feel Eddie shift as I lie there in his arms, and I can tell that he's awake. Turning around so I can face him, he leans in and gives me a kiss. "Good morning, sleepy head. Guess what today is?"

I give a sad smile. "The Showcase." It's all coming too fast. In just days, we'll be thrown into the Arena and the other tributes will be more than willing to kill us to save themselves. They may not harm us now, but nobody will hesitate once they've set us loose. It's like hunting dogs when a scent hits their nose. Once the dog owner unhitches the latch, they're off like a flying arrow without a second thought. I close my eyes as I lean my head on his chest. "You know what you're doing for the Showcase?"

"Yeah, I do," Eddie says. "I don't want to say it though, I'm afraid I'll jinx it. All I want is an eight, really, though." He sounds a little nervous, I can hear it in his voice because I know him so well, and I squeeze his hand.

"You'll be great. I just hope I'll be fine." Of course, I already know what I'm going to do. I didn't go near this station during the training days, wanting my biggest secret to remain that: a secret. Eddie doesn't even know about it, only because I didn't want Aunt Sarah to get in trouble. Her life has been filled with too much hardship for that.

_It was one of those rare pleasantly warm nights in District Twelve. I lay in my bed, wrapped in the worn, much too thin pink blanket I've had for years. It's a sweet dream, too. I'm dreaming of some club called Sibuna. There's a blond girl, a taller one, a pretty tan-skinned girl who smiles over at me after giving the tall girl a hug, a guy with a goofy smile, and then there's another guy with black hair who immediately runs to me in what must be a reunion. And then we're gone from the cellar we're in- we're with Eddie now and we have wings. And we're flying, flying into the sky, finally free. The dark-haired boy turns to say something at me; I'm looking over at him as he's opening his lips-_

_Strong hands shake me gently from a sweet slumber and I look over to see Sarah, a look of complete determination etched on her face. You can see the grey in her hair. If this was the Capitol, she could have dyed it to its natural shade and look younger than she appeared to be. But this was District Twelve, so her hair is beginning to turn white in between the blond strands, and her figure looks older and more beaten down than she actually is. Life is cruel, and there is no exception for your Aunt Sarah. Your father was stolen first by the Capitol, and then your mother and her husband, your uncle Viktor, were taken in the mines. Aunt Sarah had no children, and you had no parents. _

_You have just each other, but in a way that's all the two of you need to be happy in District Twelve. As long as Sarah was by your side, life was worth living._

_So that's why you don't argue much as you follow Sarah down to the kitchen. There is an ancient shelf near the eating table, with an entire row of books on them. Books are a luxury for anybody in District Twelve, but my family belonged to the wealthier side of the District, and my father was convinced that books were better gems than brand new dresses. I see copies of an encyclopedia of flora in District Twelve, another one for fauna, a cookbook, a medicinal plants book and few other titles. There is one little, dusty, inconspicuous little book at the end. It was an ordinary book, and if Aunt Sarah hadn't walked over to it and touch the top of it with her fingers, I wouldn't have noticed it. The title was "The Glorious History of Panem"._

"_What is that?" I ask, yawning as I rub the sand out of my eyes. Sarah gives me a piercing look before pulling downwards on it with her hand and taking a step backwards. Suddenly, I am more than awake when I see the bookshelf swing open like a door, showing us a musty staircase below. For some reason, I feel déjà vu, but that's impossible. I've never seen the bookshelf open wide like that in my life, nor have I ever pulled down a book to enter a secret passage in my life._

"_You'll see," Aunt Sarah says, and then reads my expression. "Don't worry. It was your Uncle Viktor's idea, you know. He was always a clever man." True sadness fills her tired eyes, and I am silent as she motions for me to go down the stairs. Sarah looks carefully around before following me, closing the door behind her as she goes._

"_What if somebody actually wants to know about 'the Glorious History of Panem'?" I ask as I carefully make my way down to whatever waited for me below._

"_You can read it, if you pull it out the normal way," Aunt Sarah says matter-of-factly. "But nobody ever really likes to dwell on the painful memories of the past anyway."_

_And with that, we kept walking down the stairs without another word. Eventually we arrive at a stone room, completely barren with no furniture in it. I look over at Sarah, puzzled, but she goes over to one of the walls. "Watch," she commands, simply. She then taps an inscription on one of the bricks, three spaces across and ten spaces up from the edge of the wall. Then she goes to the next one and taps two others, and then goes to tap a brick on the third wall. Then she goes to the fourth, final wall and taps a brick right next to my ear. Suddenly, the room is transformed. Trays of weaponry slide out from the walls, and beside me dummies and targets come out from their hiding spots, ready to be used. I stare it all in shock, and maybe even a little wonder, the feeling of being tired long gone from my body._

"_Go over to that wall," Sarah instructs, and I do as I'm told, my nerves wired with anticipation. I have an inkling of what's going on here, but I let Sarah explain the full story herself. "Your ancestors built this a long time ago, before the Dark Days started. They saw North America begin to crumble to pieces, and they made this place as… what did they call it? An insurance, that's it. Well, Panem rose from the ashes left behind from the rebellion, and the Hunger Games came along and suddenly the insurance came in handy. So generations of our family, Nina, have trained in this room and now it is your turn. When the Peacekeeper raids happened several years ago, your Uncle Viktor, the clever and wonderful man he was, managed to think of a way to keep this place even more safe than before."_

_Sarah grabs some throwing knives from the table. "We had little weapons, but these throwing knives are probably the most dangerous ones. Throwing knives are dangerous, they're always the weapons nobody sees coming. You can hide them under your sleeve, to keep them safe and hidden, and when it seems like all is gone and lost, you strike." The throwing knives are ancient looking and retain a certain beauty of its own. The handle fits naturally in my hand, and as Sarah is showing me how to probably hide the throwing knives without cutting myself, she stops me in my tracks, looking at me with a grave look in her eyes._

"_Nina," she says with a serious, no-nonsense tone in her voice. "I am only teaching you so you'll be safe if your name ever gets drawn out of the Reaping Ball. So that when you're in the Arena, you will have a fighting chance, you will be able to fight back. The minute you try to do any funny business or whatever or turn into somebody you're not, Nina, the knives are gone. You hear me?"_

Eddie draws me out from the memory, calling me back to the present. "Let's go to breakfast. Y'know, before Esther goes berserk on us for being late to 'one of the most important days of our lives'." I laugh a little, because I can imagine Esther's little face turn red as she shouts and tells us off in a way unique to only her, a way that fails to intimidate either Eddie or me.

We're down at breakfast, and as usual the Capitol's chefs fail to disappoint. I for one cannot help but eat quite a few of the delicious strawberry and whipped cream crepes. Although Aunt Sarah is a better chef than most, the Capitol chefs devote their lives to the culinary arts and have an infinite more amount of resources. Eddie, as usual, has a little bit of everything. When neither of us can eat anymore, Esther insists on bringing us down to the elevator and fusses over my hair as the three of us are delivered to the training room. "Goodbye!" she squeaks as Eddie and me smile and wave our farewells.

District Twelve is the last district to go, so Eddie and I wait biting our nails as everybody from the other districts go before us. It's a curse, having to go last, because by then the Gamemakers will be too drunk or too full on delicious Capitol delicacies to pay us any attention. Even Eddie can't crack a joke, looking truly and fully nervous as he heads on out to show what he's got for the Gamemakers. I wonder what he's going to show them today. I have a suspicion of what it'll be, but my stomach is too busy doing cartwheels to focus on anything else. Eventually, it is my turn to perform for the Gamemakers, and swallowing my nerves I make my way into the training room.

Just my luck, the dessert cart has arrived just a few seconds ago. Even Victor, the strict Head Gamemaker himself, looks absolutely excited to take a bite out of strawberry shortcake. Gritting my teeth, I grab the set of throwing knives and, just like I planned to, throw against the dummies provided. They are good shots, all of them making the intended target, but the Gamemakers are too wrapped up in their chocolate pudding to pay attention. The fact that I'm going to be slaughtered in a few days and showing my best shot and effort and all they're doing is chomping down on a variety of cakes instead of paying me any attention is infuriating. There are a couple who are actually giving me a donkey's ass, like Daphne Andrews, but the greater majority don't bother to pay me any attention. Red scribbles across my vision, and that's when I notice the hanging targets. One of them is rather close to the Gamemakers Balcony.

I don't really think as I toss the last throwing knife at that dummy. It is the most powerful, accurate toss I've ever thrown, and it makes contact with the dummy's surface. Suddenly it pops, and sand flies everywhere, especially on the Gamemakers desserts. I'm feeling perhaps a little too much pride, and I feel a smirk on my face as I wait there patiently for them to dismiss me. Eventually, Victor does, with a faint, "You may go, Ms. Nina Martin." And with that, I sashay out of the room.

Even after I realize what I really did in that training room, I don't feel any shame. It's too far in the Games to replace me, and it's not like they can do anything but make my Games miserable. I'm probably going to not make it out of there anything.

When you have so little time in this life, everything you does matters. And I would never regret making that dummy sand spill into the Gamemakers pie slices, no matter what happens after that. It serves them right, anyway. So when Eddie comes over, asking me how well I did in the Showcase, I grin at him and said, "I shuck things up, you could say." That's when I begin to tell him exactly what happened.

**A/N: Done with Chapter Eleven, yay! So what do you think? My review for episode #2, along with episode #3, will be up soon. This chapter is dedicated to HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES, Guest and Simalim. Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Remember that I will love, appreciate, and do my best to reply to each and every one of them (as long as you sign into your account of course, otherwise I can't because won't let me sorry!). Also, if you do write a review, I will dedicate the next chapter for you now that I've got the ball rolling again. I think that's it. Have a fun time watching tomorrow's episode of HOA, the next chapter will be from Amber's perspective!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey all! So here's the twelfth chapter! It is the Showcase Results Banquet, shown from Amber's perspective. The review for the second and third episode of House of Anubis is up, combined into this short one because I was tired when I wrote it. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to R&R! xoxo.**

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><p>Chapter Twelve – Amber<p>

I twirl around in my gown, enjoying the feel of the lilac fabric against my skin. The gown is gorgeous, as if it is made for me, which it was. Strapless, with a flowing skirt and made of what must be the most comfortable material in the world, it hugs my figure without making it hard to breath. I've never worn anything more gorgeous in my life, and I came to the Capitol from what must be the wealthiest district. It's official. I'm in love with my stylist, Paris, and her fantastic fashion-designing skills. I want to be just like her when I grow up, making ball gowns and every other type of dresses for girls in Panem. I want to make every girl feel just as beautiful as I do now.

That's when I remember the Arena and for a second my expression falls. But I refuse to be upset when I'm wearing this dress of perfection. For tonight, I push aside all worries. I'm going to own this banquet. I did my hair myself, doing a loose braid and adding a freshly picked lily at the end for a final touch. Paris did my makeup, and I must admit, I do glow as I smile at myself in the mirror. Suddenly, I can't take it anymore, I have to squeal. My dream of being in the Capitol and wearing a beautiful dress like this for a banquet is finally coming true. "Mick!" And then there's my handsome district partner, Mick Campbell, who I want to be the first to see me in my dress tonight.

Mick walks in, looking wonderful in the black suit he's wearing. The stylists didn't have to do much to make him look dashing tonight. I twirl in my gown for him, and when I'm done I meet his face with a grin. "What do you think, Mick?" Do I sound too eager, or desperate? I'm not sure. But if I do, Mick doesn't notice.

"You look lovely, Ams," Mick says with a small smile. "C'mon now, we don't want to be late, do we?" Inside, I feel a little disappointed by Mick's lack of reaction. I know he's desperate to see the scores more than he is to see a girl in a beautiful dress. But it's always been that way. As we head on down to the dining hall with our prep team, where the banquet hall will be, my head remembers our time together in District One. I used to have a crush on Mick, when we were younger. But after a little bit I just gave up on the idea of us. It was obvious that Mick's first and only love was the Hunger Games, and that was that. Honestly, the idea of blood and killing people is disgusting to me, no matter how many times Daddy says otherwise. I could never really see the point of it all, if I'm going to be honest, but whatever Daddy says is law in the Millington household.

All thoughts about home are completely gone once I enter the dining hall. Its sheer beauty takes my breath away. The Gamemakers, reporters, government officials, celebrities and each district get their own tables, all of which are covered in a beautiful silky white table clothe. The chairs, while looking properly cushioned, are made from gold. They are molded into an intricate design. The dining hall's walls are made from marble, and at the ceiling is a mural of President Rufus Zeno, the artist perfectly capturing his features. This place is by far more exquisite than anywhere in District One, even the City Hall. It's beautiful, and I can't help but think this is all a dream come true. There's only one thing missing, yet I can't quite put my finger on it now.

I settle down at my table with Mick and the rest of the prep team. We are closer to the Gamemakers head table, which is long and looks perhaps even more elegant than the rest. Finally, the food is ready to be served to my left and I eagerly stand up, excited to see what the Capitol has prepared for us today. I was born to live in the Capitol, I know it. Everything about this place feels right for me. The glamour, the gowns, the parties, everything. I can't imagine living anywhere else, and I was born in District One.

I head on over to the buffet tables, where the food is ready for us to eat. I take single plate and head on over to the seafood section. I've never had flounder before, so I take a small piece of that before going to the noodles section and plopping a scoop of rice on my plate. Soon enough, I add some cauliflower to my meal and make my way over to the dessert table.

Plenty of tributes have already made their way to the dessert table, including the guy from District Three. He, like all the other guys, is wearing a suit, except that instead of being the standard black, he's wearing purple. I faintly remember him earlier crying out a rather excited, "bacon!" when he was over at the meats section. One of the District Four girls, Piper, I think, is laughing as he piles his plate high with every dessert offered. The other one, Patricia, looks rather surly as she surveys the room. It almost seems like she doesn't want to be here. But why would she? This banquet will probably be the best part of the Hunger Games.

The guy from three and Piper, who is dressed in a lovely light pink gown, make their way back to their seats while Patricia takes her turn to grab a cupcake. Soon some other girls join us at the dessert table. I recognize the nice girl from Eight, Mara, the girl from Twelve, Nina, and the girl from Eleven whose name I can't remember. They all look wonderful in their gowns. According to Paris, it's standard protocol for the girls to be dressed up tonight in ball gowns and for the guys to be in suits. I admire Mara's satin white gown, Nina's striking dark red one, Patricia's ocean blue, and the beautiful ice green dress that the girl from Eleven is wearing. Still, though, I love my dress the most though, as lilac is probably my favorite color next to pink.

I'm reminded of the school dances we used to have back home, which I'd attend with my friends Lace, Ruby and Tina. We'd sit on the girl's side of the room, having fun, admiring each other's fashion choices and trying to get the guys to come over and ask us to dance. Half of the time, they wouldn't. Still, though, the memory is enough to get me to smile at the girls. Maybe these girls would be like my friends from home? "Isn't this thing so cool? You all look lovely in your dresses if I do say so myself!"

The girl from District Four, Patricia, gives me a glare that makes my feet turn cold. I'm not really sure what to say, but Patricia sure knows what's going to come out of her mouth. "We're all going to be slaughtered for entertainment in a matter of days. I can't believe that anybody would find any part of this… what did you say? Oh, yeah, 'cool.'" A knot seems to be forming in the back of my throat as Patricia storms off to her table, and I want to cry, but I can't. For one, I made a promise to not cry while I was in my beautiful lilac gown, and there's also the mascara outlining my eyes to think about. It would not look good if that black stuff started running down my cheeks. I don't have a clue what to say, but I realize what is missing from the banquet.

I really, really miss my friends.

Lace would have said something snide in return to Patricia's words. Ruby would squeeze my shoulder with a sympathetic look on her face, and Tina would have probably snuck out to a more… private location with that hunk from boot camp. Then the four of us would walk off, Ruby would have cracked a joke and we'd start laughing as we tried to get the attention of Mick and his buddies. But they're not here. I'm alone, tongue-tied as Patricia turns her back to me. Joy looks mildly sympathetic, but looks uncomfortable and doesn't really hesitate to make her way back to her seat. Not that I can really blame her, now that everything's put into perspective. We are all going to be killed in just a matter of days- all of us but one, and there's nothing we can do about it. I just thought that maybe if I ignored it, I could enjoy myself during my last days before the Arena.

"I hear the strawberry shortcake is really good," Nina says with a sad, unsure smile before returning back to her table and her district partner, Eddie. I watch her go, the nice girl who just two days ago told me the danger of nightlock berries. The tears are really starting to threaten to spill now, but then Mara gives me a genuine, sympathetic smile. "I really love what you did with your hair," she says sweetly. "Can you tell me how you did it?" With that, the knot inside the back of my throat loosens, and I tell her the secrets to a good braid as we pile desserts on our plates. I do take a good cut of strawberry shortcake, but don't hesitate to take the apple pie and the moist chocolate cake too. Mara seems to have a weakness for cupcakes; she grabs more of those than any of the other pastries there.

I'm starting to feel better now as Mara and I part ways, heading back to Mick and putting a signature Amber Millington smile on my face. He raises an eyebrow at the considerable amount of desserts on my plate. Before he can say anything, the Head Gamemaker, Victor Rodenmaar, taps his glass at the center of the Gamemakers table and stands up to face the cameras to make his annual speech. It's short, but I barely pay attention to it because of the butterflies forming in my stomach. Soon enough, he's done and everybody turns to the left, where the screen that holds the results for the Showcase is stored. I take a deep breath, trying to control my nerves. I'm sure I did fine. I can clearly remember my Showcase.

The Gamemakers were clearly distracted by the appetizers that had just arrived, but I decided to not let it bother me. I had headed on over to the camouflage station, and painted myself into an old oak tree with a few swift, skilled strokes of the fingers. When the Gamemakers finally had their attention back to me, I can proudly say there were quite a few gasps. The camouflage station had a section of two trees and grass for you to practice with, and apparently I blended right in. I hope I did well; I could just picture Daddy's face when… if… he hears how well I did in the Showcase.

Then the results are about to be revealed. It's a pretty simple process, really. There are twenty-six pictures of each tribute participating in the Seventeenth Hunger Games displayed on the enormous screen at the same time, and after a second everybody's score will be shown on the bottom right corner of their picture. It will stay that way for the rest of the night, until the banquet is over. Right now, though, the screen is displaying a countdown. Everybody is sucking in their breaths, waiting to see whom the tributes that seem to have the most potential will be. I hope I'm one of them. Daddy would be so proud if I was.

It feels like forever until that stupid countdown shows the number zero. When it does, though, it is instantly wiped away and is replaced by the pictures twenty-six tributes of the Seventeenth Hunger Games, and then another second later those fateful numbers appear. I look for my picture. I look nice; I'm smiling up at the camera. My outfit is actually cute, and my hair isn't too out of place. I don't pay much attention to it though, my eyes go to the only thing that counts: my score.

It's a ten. Amber Millington received a ten!

I can't help it, I squeal for the second time tonight and tug on the sleeve of Mick's suit. "Oh my god, Mick, look! A ten! They awarded me a ten!" It's one of the highest scores a person can possibly get, unless if you get an eleven or a twelve. Nobody has ever been awarded a twelve, though, and although people have gotten elevens, they're hard to get. A ten is the best score you can get. Daddy and Mom will be so happy, I can't help but think as my eyes start to water up with tears of joy.

"Congrats," Mick says, sounding a little disappointed. My eyes trail a little bit to the left, to see Mick's score, which is a nine. I honestly would have been happy with a nine, but Mick acts as if he's been received a five. "What did you do, Millington?"

"I flashed Victor," I say without beating an eyelash. Mick has just stuffed a piece of chocolate cake in his mouth, and I can't help but laugh at the sight of his face as he chokes on his dessert. An avox comes over, looking worried, but Mick shoos him away, saying he's fine as he goes to drink his water.

"You're not serious, right?" Mick asks as he manages to finally get himself under control.

"Of course not!" I say, my eyes widening in horror as I think about the idea, "please, Mick. I have much better taste in men than that, thank you very much."

My dark blue eyes scan the screen, looking for anybody who particularly stood out. Jerome Clarke has also scored a ten. He looks particularly smug as he watches his district partner, Dana Roberts, blow a gasket about the eight she received while their mentor drinks some vodka. The guy in the purple suit, from Three, looks particularly surprised at the eight he received and shares a smile with Piper, who looks well strangely enough for a career who just scored a seven. Not to my surprise, her twin Patricia scored a nine. She looks neither elated nor disappointed, and the knot in the back of my throat seems to have formed again every time I look at her.

A lot of people don't really stand out to me, not until I find Mara's picture and grin at her when I see she scored an eight. Mara looks very pleased, shyly playing with her food and sharing smiles with Jerome before I catch her attention. When her eyes finally look over at me, I mouth a 'congratulations' at her and she mouths back, 'you too.'

District Eleven catches my attention. The boy, Fabian, who was at the plants station with Nina the other day, just scored a seven. But Joy Mercer scores a ten, and I raise my eyebrows, wondering what the heck she did when she was with the Gamemakers. The boy from Twelve, Eddie, receives a ten too. If it's possible at all, my eyebrows rise a little higher. Did he flash Victor, maybe? It's hard to capture any of the Gamemakers attentions by the time District Twelve comes in to perform for the Gamemakers.

But the biggest shock of all is Nina Martin's score. She got an eleven.

For a second I'm shocked. A person from the poorest, dirtiest district received the highest score? I look over at their table, and I watch her and Eddie hug as they congratulate each other. I see Fabian and Patricia looking over too, with expressions I can't even begin to describe on their faces.

And Mick is watching them too. I can see him, his eyes calculating them. I've known Mick Campbell for my entire life. I've seen him cry, pummel a dummy in frustration, smile in joy when he got one of the highest scores in boot camp. I remember how he was around his friends, teachers, parents. I've even seen him making out with a girl named Diamond in the bathroom once two years ago and I can clearly recall the heartbreak that came along with it when I close my eyes. It was a one-time thing, and by then I had convinced myself I didn't like Mick, but it still hurt to see his hands all over her.

There's a completely different look in his eyes, though, as I watch him observe Nina. It's cold, it's calculating. It's the look the predator makes when it's observing it's next prey. But not just any prey, but the type of prey that would give him a challenge. Instead of running away and focusing on the easier ones, Mick is drawn to the challenge and is determined to win it. It's a completely new look to Mick, one I've never seen before. It's almost like I don't know Mick anymore, which is ridiculous because I've known him ever since I was three. It perhaps breaks my heart even more than seeing him kiss another girl's lips.

But I'm not brave enough to say anything. I was never brave enough around Daddy, and now I'm not brave enough around Mick. I don't tell him to cut it out, I don't ask him what the heck he's doing. I don't tell him that look of his scares me more than I would like it to. Instead, I look away and shove a piece of strawberry shortcake down my throat.

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><p><strong>AN: And that's a wrap! What do you think of Chapter Twelve? Everybody's scores? Don't forget to R&R, please! Even if it's just a sentence, I will always appreciate any and all reviews. If it's just a sentence, that's fine! I will do my best to reply to you ASAP! c: This chapter is dedicated to HOApercyjacksonHUNGERGAMES, Guest and Alex-Greyback303!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: AGH I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I know I'm basically restoring this story from the dead (again) but I've been looking at all of your kind reviews and school's almost over and, well, I need something to keep me busy during the summer. I also don't want to leave you guys wondering what the hell will ever happen in this story, because it just wouldn't be nice or fair to not finish what I've started. For those who are wondering, **_**the actual Games will begin in the next chapter**_**. I promise. And I am determined to keep this promise. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! It's basically the Interview. Enjoy, and R&R!**

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><p>Chapter Thirteen<p>

Part One - Eddie

One more hour of learning proper etiquette, and I think I might curl up into a ball and die. Esther has been grilling me for hours on how to properly sit and walk and talk during this stupid Interview tonight, and after a while Esther's chastising words about my manners start to grate on my nerves. Honestly, I don't see what's so wrong about slouching. It's physically painful to be sitting straight all the time, yet Esther's slaps hurt more. They don't really hurt, they're just annoying, and what's even more irritating is the "back straight, chin up Eddie!" that accompanies it. Finally, though, finally, lessons with Esther are over and I can go to dinner. More than anything, I can't wait to see Nina, whose been busy getting her dress from Lena. I've really missed her, and I'd take her over Esther every day of the year.

What I don't expect, however, is to see Patricia Williamson by the elevators. Sure, elevators are the only way to get anywhere in this building, but there's one that's closer to where she sleeps. The way she looks at me is almost nervous, like she's waiting of news for something urgent, as if her life depends on it. She's staring at the elevator door for longer than what's considered healthy, and she nearly jumps into the ceiling when I say, "hey, Yacker."

"Hey, Weasel," she replies, her voice sounding more antsy than it's usual sarcastic tone. The way she bites her lip nervously whenever she looks at me isn't something I expected. I'm not only surprised by the fact that Patricia looks nervous, but that she also looks very cute when nervous. That's not appropriate thoughts to be thinking of, though, not when you already have an amazing girlfriend whose waiting for you downstairs to have dinner and you're also going to be thrown into a fight to the death with both of them in less than two days. "Had fun trying and failing to learn proper manners?"

This brings out a groan and a roll of the eyes. "Oh god, if I hear Esther say the words 'you're a man, not a brute' again I'm going to die."

Patricia snorts and starts laughing. "She actually said that?"

"Yes. Pretty much the same thing over and over and over again for four hours! She probably said those words more than she uttered any words of wisdom on actual manners! It was ridiculous, I mean, we're all going to get slaughtered in a matter of a few days, so why should I care about whether my back is straight or not-" I only get really angrier and more furious with every word, letting out all the steam that had been building up from the moment I walked into the same room as Esther. However, before I really go on a tangent and start venting to the girl, I'm interrupted. I'm paused mid-sentenced by a pair of lips, because Yacker's kissed me.

I like the feeling of Patricia's lips way more than I should have. They're warm and soft, and taste sweet like strawberries. She smells really good too, like the smell of the ocean, salty and fresh and wonderful. For a second, I actually kiss her back, my heart and my di- well, you know what I mean- thinking before my head does. But after a moment it catches up, and it remembers Nina. Nina, my girlfriend and the girl who I still love despite the fact that Patricia's a really good kisser. Not to mention, this technically counts as cheating, and Eddie Miller is not a cheater. I don't cheat, because it's a horrible thing to do. That was a lesson my father made sure to teach me when I was younger.

I pull away quickly, yet feeling more than a little dazed, and I stare down at Patricia. Her cheeks seemed to have turned rosy in color. "Umm..." I say, very eloquently. "Patricia, I-" I'm about to try to tell her, as nice as possible, that while she's a great girl, I have a girlfriend and it wouldn't be fair to anyone if we started kissing. Patricia beats me to the punch, though.

"Don't," she says, her voice painted with sadness. "I already know. Nina. I just... wanted to do that. One of those things where you want to do before you die." She tries to give a smile, but it falters immediately.

"I'm sorry," I say, because that's the only thing I can bring myself to speak at the moment.

She nods, and starts to walk away. Right when I start to walk into the elevator, she speaks again. "Just so you know, Nina's the luckiest girl in the world."

When I look back, surprise etched on my face, she's gone.

Part Two - Nina

I see Eddie enter the room for dinner, and give him a wide smile, trying not to feel too nervous about the upcoming Interview. There seems to be sort of hesitance in his eyes, though, and when he sits down next to me, I lean over and give him a kiss. He kisses me back, but there's something different about the way he kisses than he did this morning. I can't figure out what, though, and before I can ask, Eddie pulls away and starts piling his plate with copious amounts of food. "How was etiquette?" I ask, trying to not let it bother to me. Maybe he's just tired from spending hours with Esther. I know I would be.

He doesn't quite look at me in the eyes when he says, "It was hours with Esther. In other words, I was about to stab myself towards the end." I smile a little bit, but there's something very off about the way Eddie's acting, and I wonder what happened. Did I do something wrong? Is there food caught in between my teeth?

Before I can say anything, though, Esther comes bouncing into the room. "C'mon you two!" she orders, her voice high-pitched and bossy, as usual. "We need to get you pretty for your interviews! You have to eat faster! Pronto!"

Soon enough, we're all dolled up and the Interviews are about to start in a matter of minutes. Eddie takes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile, and I feel relieved that Eddie's starting to get back to normal again. My dress isn't that bad too, red and orange and yellow like fire, clinging to my figure. Lena's styled my hair into a gorgeous waterfall braid, using mascara and eyeliner to make my eyes pop. It's a gorgeous outfit, but everybody else is also in beautiful outfits too. "You look dashing in your suit," I say to Eddie before giving him a quick kiss, and then people are hushing us because the Interviews are starting.

I can't tell anyone what happens from that moment onward to when it's my turn to be interviewed. I really can't, because my stomach seems to have done cartwheels and ties itself into knots. I've never been more nervous about anything in my entire life. Not even when I was in school and had to present a project for the entire class, because in school the only audience was my class of twenty kids and our one teacher. This time, if I mess up, the entire world will be watching.

I'm after Fabian, and as we walk pass each other on my way to the stage, I think I hear him whisper, "good luck, Nina." It's really quiet, and I'm too nervous to really register anything, so I'm not sure if he actually said it or if I'm just imagining things. With each step my heart seems to lodge further into my throat, making it hard to breathe, and soon enough I'm on the stage and the spotlight is on me.

The light's too bright, and for a nanosecond I feel disoriented, but then I see Caesar Flickerman smiling over at me, extending a hand so he can shake mine. It's a simple act, but it's the equivalent of a lifesaver and I grip his hand perhaps a little tighter than I should. Caesar takes it all in stride, though, keeping his expression friendly and indifferent to the fact my hands were probably sweaty and gross. We sit down, and the interview starts. I'm struck by how easy it is to talk to Caesar, how genuine smiles and laughs escape my lips in almost no time at all. We start talking about the Capitol food and the prep days and I'm starting to get a lot more comfortable when Caesar asks starts asking questions that are harder to answer.

"So, Nina. You managed to get an eleven in the Showcase. How on earth did that happen?"

"Sorry, Caesar. Lips are sealed. Wouldn't want people to find out my secret talents, wouldn't I?"

"Alright, alright! So what would winning mean to you?"

That's a good question. People have said fame, honor, seeing relatives and girlfriends or boyfriends again. The thing is, my boyfriend is right here. There's nobody to have a corny, romantic reunion with, because if I win it means Eddie will be dead. But I don't mention that. "It would mean seeing my aunt Sarah again."

"You and Sarah are close?"

I nod, my throat starting to feel thick with emotion. "Yes. She took me in after my mother died. I lost my father a long time ago. She practically raised me and, well, she's the strongest person I've ever known. I miss her so much."

Caesar squeezes my hand and gives me a gentle smile. It seems like he actually cares about me. "She sounds like a wonderful woman. And who knows? Win this whole thing and you'll be able to see her again." I nod a little, because I don't trust myself to speak.

"So," Caesar says, only a minute left of my interview, "I'm sure everybody is dying to know what's going on between you and your district partner, Eddie Sweet." Of course. That's what everybody wants to know, isn't it? "In between your hug at the train station and holding hands at the Opening Ceremonies... well, you can't help but wonder."

I look down at my feet, my cheeks feeling like they're on fire, and I hear Caesar say, "oh, look! She's getting all flustered." Apparently, it's the cutest thing.

My eyes eventually look up, and I give a bashful smile. "Eddie's my boyfriend. I love him. We've been dating for... years."

I think I hear the audience cry out, upset at the idea that a couple was going into the games together. Caesar gives me a very sad smile. "When did you first meet?"

The thing about making people fall in love with you is that you have to get personal. You can't close off, especially when you've given them an opening and they're dying for more. The day I met Eddie is a personal memory, a precious treasure, and I don't want to give it up to the Capitol, not when I've already given them so much. Sometimes, though, you don't have a choice in the matter.

"I met him on the playground in District Twelve when we were really little," I say. "It was on the day I lost my dad and... you aren't really supposed to laugh on those types of days. But Eddie managed to make me laugh so hard I started crying, and, well... I never really looked back." I hear some happy sighs and some heartbroken sobs in the audience, and give a sad little smile of my own. It's true, I've never regretted loving Eddie. The only time my eyes seemed to stray was... Fabian, really, but it's not like we could ever be. Only one of us would be coming out of that Arena alive.

The buzzer sounds and my interview's over. I make my way off the stage, and as I pass Eddie as he makes his way up to the stage and we share a sad gaze. Eddie kisses my temple, and a small smile forms on my lips before I sit down. For some reason, even though I know it's silly, I can't look at Fabian, whose sitting to my left. Instead, I watch Eddie. He's a natural on that stage, commanding the audience whenever he talks, joking around and laughing with Caesar. But eventually, Caesar asks Eddie about me, and I hear everybody hold their breathes as they wait for his response.

"Yeah, Nina's my girlfriend. Don't know how that happened, or why she bothered to stick around, but she did." The last sentence draws a laugh from the audience. "In all seriousness though... she's one of the most amazing people I know. I'd do anything for her."

After a moment, Caesar asks, "would you die for her, if you knew she'd live?"

Eddie's eyes hold no trace of humor when he responds, "of course."

**A/N: And we got some Peddie! We also got some Neddie too, but for all the Peddie shippers out there… well, there's going to be around twenty-four chapters of this book, give or take a couple, if all goes as planned. So yeah ;) I hope you liked it, don't forget to R&R! Next chapter: THE HUNGER GAMES! I'm so excited to start writing that :DDDD**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: The moment you've all been waiting for! Let the Hunger Games begin! These chapters from here on out will get more complicated, as they'll be going between three main alliances. What alliances are they? Well, you'll see ;) Enjoy the chapter, don't forget to R&R! And (sadly) I own neither House of Anubis or Hunger Games!**

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><p>Chapter Fourteen<p>

Part 1 - Nina

I wake up with dread coursing threw my veins, not an ounce of grogginess in my eyes. For a second, I don't know why, my instinct and my brain not working in full partnership together before I realize: today is the first day of the Hunger Games. Not the stupid prep days beforehand, the _actual_ Hunger Games, where we'll actually have to fight and this time it won't be with dummies. I hear myself moan, and apparently Eddie does too, because he stirs from his sleep and wipes his eyes before looking at me. "What's wrong, Nines?"

I look at him. Apparently he's too sleepy to remember. "Today, Eddie," I say, my voice quivering, "is the first day of the actual Hunger Games." Suddenly, his eyes fly wide open, as if he's been electrocuted. It would have been amusing if it had been any other situation, but I can't laugh. Not when death is blankly staring at me in the face. I had acted very proud of the eleven I had scored at the Showcase last night, but in reality I was terrified. I might as well have put a target on my head.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, everything seemingly hitting him full force, and he looks dazed. I hold onto his shoulders so he doesn't fall over. "Holy… Nina, we're going into the arena." And while I know Eddie said he wasn't afraid to die, that he would die for me (like I was going to let that happen), it's hard not to get a little scared when death is so near. Even the most suicidal person is scared of death, because nobody's came back from the death to tell you what it'll be like after you take your first breath. You'll have no idea what to expect once you're gone.

"I know," I say, before leaning over and giving him a sweet, lingering kiss in attempt to comfort him. It's also an attempt to comfort myself, too. "Just remember… I love you, Eddie. And we'll find each other in that arena. Somehow we will. We have to."

Eddie nods, and laces his hand in mind. We don't let go for the entire morning, determined to savor one of the last days (maybe even the last day) that we'll ever be able to enjoy each other's touch. Our hands stay intertwined through breakfast, and they only separate when it's time to go into separate rooms, where we'll be lifted into the arena via launch pad. Even so, it's hard to let go, because I know that there's a chance that the Bloodbath will be chaotic enough that Eddie and I won't be able to find each other.

Lena is there waiting for me, and we exchange a hug before she suits me up in the outfit the Capitol requires we wear when we're in the Arena. You can tell a lot about the Arena through the outfit they make the tributes where. Mine is a light brown, made of comfy material. The most telling thing about it is that it's very… flexible and versatile. Meaning I can either pull down one of the many zippers and turn the pants into shorts. It goes the same for sleeves. I'm given a jacket, which can either be a heavy snow coat or a light windbreaker. The colors change too, if you press the right way, and it's a good surface for camouflaging. I have the feeling the Arena's going to be as bipolar as my outfit.

I step into the tube, onto the launchpad, and Lena mouths, 'good luck' at me. I mouth back a quick thanks, and she instructs me to stand tall and hold my chin up high. It's not bad advice, so I do exactly as she advises. A minute later, and I feel myself being lifted into the Arena.

There are trees surrounding the edge of the clearing, so I can't see what's beyond the Cornucopia, and whether my theory is right. It's sunny out, though, and the light is a little dazing. I immediately look around for Eddie. He's two launch pads down to my left, the girl from Six in between us. I immediately look to my right to find Joy Mercer, whose looking at me with an unreadable expression on her face. I can't tell if she's friend or foe, and I make sure to watch my back when I look for some goodies.

Speaking of which, I look at all the goodies displayed in front of me. My eyes immediately latch onto a medicine kit and a dagger. I search desperately for a set of throwing knives, but they're all the way across the Cornucopia and I just can't take that risk. A dagger's similar to a knife, though, isn't it? Aunt Sarah had a knife for chopping whatever vegetables or meat we had for the week, and it has to be similar, right? It's my best bet, anyway. I'm not sure whether the Gamekeepers did this on purpose. Perhaps they didn't want to give me a chance, as a way of revenge for wrecking their desserts.

I notice Eddie's eyes are locked onto a long bow, which is attached to a shaft of arrows, and I know he's going to go for it. I can't talk him out of it, even if I wanted to. Immediately when our eyes meet we know what the game plan is: Eddie will grab those arrows, and I'll make sure nobody tries to pulverize him as I try to get whatever I can get my hands on. Nobody near us looks very threatening, though, except for one of the District Four boys that's four spots away from Eddie's left, and then Joy. I see her eyes are clearly focused on something and it's a water bottle… which is literally five feet away from a loaded gun.

Shit. Joy's always been good with guns.

I don't have any time to think about it, though, because the gong rings and all I can think is to run, to get that medicine kit and that dagger and maybe everything will be alright. I just have to hope the girl from Six in between Eddie in me doesn't have the nerve to try and snatch the dagger. She doesn't, actually. All she does is grab a bag of strawberries before taking off into the forest, limbs running faster than the wind. I grab the dagger, and just as I'm about to grab the medicine kit, a tan-colored hand snatches it first. Joy.

I look up and see her gun pointing in my direction. That's it, it's over, I'm going to die in these stupid Games before they've even gun. I hear a gunshot go off, but instead of the bullet impaling my head, it whizzes past my ear. I think for a second that maybe Joy actually _missed_. But as soon as the thought comes, I banish it. I've watched Joy. She never gets anything less than a bullseye. Looking around, I watch as the bullet kills the boy from Eight, who moments ago was fighting Eddie for the bow and arrows. He's dead now, spraying Eddie's face with blood, and Eddie wrenches the bow out of his hand before looking over at Joy and me. He's genuinely shocked for a second, before deciding to dash over to my side.

"Well?" Joy asks, eyebrow quirked. "Don't just stand there and stare. Get us some goodies." Fabian is behind her, holding a water bottle. There's a serious look on his face, and I nod before spying a large, packed backpack. It's towards the center of the Cornucopia, close to the horn.

"Cover me," I say before spinning on my heel and racing off towards the pack. Lord knows how many treats are in that backpack. I'm half afraid that Joy will shoot me back, but I know Eddie would make sure an arrow pierces her throat before that happens. I'm also certain that Fabian wouldn't just stand there and watch me die. But, to be honest, Joy is his best friend. I'm probably the girl he and Joy tried to team up with because of my high marks. Something, a voice maybe, tells me otherwise.

Either way, I manage to get the bag and race back, just in time to watch Joy shoot a guy who dared to sneak up behind Fabian. There's no real hesitance, when Joy shoots, I realize with a slight chill. I know it goes against all the morals I'd been raised on, but I wish I could kill just as easily as Joy. She doesn't even blink an eye as she squeezes the trigger.

"Let's go!" I shout so I can be heard over the chaos. The bloody, vicious fights are more towards the other side of the Cornucopia though. There seems to be more prizes there. I'm half-afraid Joy will say something like, _'who died and made you leader?'_ But she doesn't. Instead, she, Fabian and Eddie follow me as we dash swiftly to the trees. I don't know when, maybe it was when Joy decided to save Eddie's life from that District Eight boy, but we've formed an alliance. It's a truce, but it feels as fragile as glass, or thin ice, like it can shatter to pieces any second.

Part 2 - Mara

There's so much blood.

Sure, you see it every year on television. The Bloodbath. It's a suiting name, because after everybody's initially released into the Cornucopia, you could literally bathe in the blood left behind once there's no one left. But there's a difference between watching it on television and actually being there as a witness. Not as just simply a witness, but a _tribute_. I try to think of my older brother, and how if he were here he'd know exactly what to do.

We're both intelligent, sure, but there's a significant difference between Berkeley and me. Berk could always think under pressure, it's why he was one of the few boys from Eight who ever made it past the Bloodbath. With me, I freeze. I don't know what to do.

I'm pulled out of my daze by a blonde beauty. "Mara!" It's Amber Millington from District One. Without speaking, we've seemed to have made an alliance. I think it happened after the Banquet. "You get that large medicine kit! I'll cover you!" Some people might call Amber bossy, but I don't mind. I really don't. I think I need some orders, some sort of plan at this point, and if it involves Amber telling me what to do then so be it. I see her dashing off to grab a water bottle before zig-zagging to get a loaf of bread, and I suddenly realize she's making her way to the throwing knives.

It's then when I finally start sprinting towards the medicine kit. It's large and probably very complex. It's also probably the most perfect thing in this Cornucopia for me. I had always wanted to be a doctor, back home. It's mine, I want it so badly. I'm almost there too, my hand reaching out when I'm suddenly yanked back. Turning around, I look into the unsmiling eyes of Mick Campbell. The fiercest tribute in the competition next to Dana Roberts from Two. Just my luck.

He's actually kind-of cute, but any thoughts of attraction are thrown out of the window when he suddenly pushes the point of his sword against my neck. It's not firm enough to penetrate skin, but a little more pressure and I'll be bleeding on the soft grass beneath my feet, my throat viciously slashed at Mick's hand. There's a cruel sneer on his face, and that's when I realize Mick's the type of guy who likes to play with his prey before he kills it.

"Mick!" Amber screams behind me, but he manages to easily duck the knife she throws at his head. I wonder if she's trying as hard as it seems. Sure, Amber and I might have been friendly and we might have unofficially formed a partnership. But Mick is her official district partner, she's known him for all of his life. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't try to kill him. A few tears well up in my eyes, because although I knew I would die at some point during these Games, nobody's ever really prepared to die.

"Aww, don't cry, pretty girl," Mick says, oblivious to the chaos and disorder surrounding himself. "Soon you'll be joining Brother Jaffrey in the big fabric store in the sky, won't you?" So he does know about Berkeley. Then again, everybody did, I was asked about him in my Interview. For some reason, by simply standing here as Mick takes his time before he strikes, makes me feel like I'm disappointing my brother. It's not like I can do anything about it though, Mick's grip is too hard. My eyes fall to the grass. I wonder how its green color will look, stained with my red blood.

"Look at me, Jaffrey. I want you to look me in the eyes as I skewer you through the stomach like a kabob." A very scared moan leaves my lips, much to my shame and horror, as my eyes look up to meet Mick's blue ones. I wonder how such pretty blue eyes can hold such a twisted soul behind them.

"Over my dead body," a voice hisses. For a second I think it's Amber, but the voice is too deep to be a girl's. I look to my left just in time to see Jerome Clarke swipe at Mick's face with his sword. It slices open his cheek, and I know Mick's face will be forever marred if he ever manages to survive the Bloodbath. It almost seems like a ridiculous idea when there's a furious Jerome Clarke standing beside me. I've never felt so relieved to see the guy in my entire life.

Mick instinctively cries out, before a snarl takes over his once smug features, and he lunges for Jerome with his own sword in hand. Jerome's good and ready for Mick, though, and blocks his strike with perfect ease. I pick up the medicine kit, looking up just in time to watch Amber's throwing knives pin Mick down to a nearby tree. I see Jerome prowling closer, ready for the kill.

That's when an arrow whizzes past his head, a warning shot, and I look to my right to see Dana Roberts. I'm surprised she even settled for that, when she could have aimed a little more to the left so the tip of the arrow would have pierced his temple. Jerome is her district partner, though, and maybe she expects him to join her and Mick so they can hunt me and the rest of the weaklings down.

I'm sure that even if she wasn't expecting that, she probably didn't appreciate it when Jerome grabbed me, Amber following because of our alliance, as we raced for the trees.

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><p><strong>AN: And the Games have begun. You will find out the third alliance soon enough, I promise! I hope that was good. Please R&R. Even if it's just a sentence, it's appreciated, as all of your amazing reviews really help me write the next chapter! (:**


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